An Unchaste Affair
by Just Mosie
Summary: Before his family died, Patrick Jane loved living life as if it were to end the next day. He loved having fun at the expense of others. In mid-2002, Jane gets more than he bargained for when he signs on as a part-time consultant for the CBI. A romance.
1. Prologue

**After watching 4x10, Fugue in Red, I came up with this idea. By no means does this have really any spoilers to that episode, but I decided _  
>"What if Jane consulted for the CBI before his family was killed? And what if Lisbon, new at the time, first met him? What could have happened?"<em> And this came out! After all, Jane did help the police pre-murder. It could have very well been the CBI. Hopefully, you will all enjoy it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not, by any means, own The Mentalist. **

An Unchaste Affair

Prologue

**June 3, 2002**

The pen in his grip was held in a relaxed sort of way as he signed his name on the bottom of the paper. Once finished, Patrick Jane looked up at Virgil Minelli, a worn man in his early fifties with greying temples.

A couple of months ago, when he had "helped" the local police in Los Angeles, he had gotten himself noticed by Minelli. Minelli had been amazed by his ability to quickly evaluate the crime scene and give a near-accurate background on the murder victim that the elder man had asked for his opinion more than once on the case. Jane eventually found himself staying in a hotel two nights that week away from his family, something he was not sorry for happening.

While working the case, Jane was able to meet the senior agent, Roderick Martin. The man was very stern and Jane found it amusing to mess with him while working the case. Much to Martin's obvious dismay, though. Then there were Martin's two agents, Simmons and Flores. He took a rather immediate liking to both men, seeing as they both loved to be amazed by his perceptive talents and "psychic" abilities.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Jane."

Jane nodded and handed the paperwork over to Minelli. The man took it from him, glanced over at the signatures and nodded back, apparently happy with the signatures.

"I know this consultation work is on an occasional, part-time basis, but if you would ever like to alter your contract, feel free to call me."

Minelli knew that Jane had a profession elsewhere, and that was as a television psychic. He was also quite aware that Jane was borderline celebrity. Through this profession, Jane was not only able to con helpless people out of their money and charm the innocent, but have a tremendous amount of fun in the process. Though, Minelli did not realize that his new consultant was a mere con.

Nodding again, Jane stood to his feet and extended out his right hand for Minelli to shake. Minelli took it in his, gave it a firm shake, and said something about walking him to the elevator. Jane, in his most polite manner of speaking, told him that that was unnecessary and that he could easily locate the elevator.

As both men were on their way out of the office, Jane was rather surprised when Minelli stopped just outside of the door. Taking this as a distraction, and that he could slip away from Minelli, Jane started to make his way towards the elevators alone. Though, he was quite surprised to hear a woman's voice behind him in conversation along with Minelli's.

"Sorry I'm late, sir, but I had to meet with my new landlord."

"That's all right, Lisbon."

Without taking another step, Jane began to turn around on the spot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman standing beside Minelli. Her stature was short and petite, her hair dark and hovered a little bit over her shoulders. She carried herself well and obviously wanted people to respect her in the workplace.

Curious about her sudden appearance, Jane started to come closer to the two people talking. It seemed as if Lisbon was new in Sacramento and her first instinct had been to report to Minelli, but had decided getting her living situation covered was her first priority.

"Will this apartment work?" Minelli asked in good spirits. It was almost teasing, and Jane realized that she had got the short end of a deal earlier before. Hence why she made sure to meet with the new landlord rather than come into work.

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

When she finished speaking, Jane cleared his throat and brought the attention unto himself. The woman, Lisbon, turned towards him and furrowed her brow as if angered at his desire to shift the attention. Looking up, Jane's gaze was caught in hers. Sure, he thought that the woman before him was quite attractive, but he had not expected her eyes to be an olive green. With her dark hair, he would think her eyes would either be dark, which he did not see from afar, or some shade of hazel.

"Ah, Lisbon, I'd like you to meet the CBI's newest consultant," she looked over at Minelli as if questioning his sanity. "Patrick Jane, psychic."

"_That_ Patrick Jane?" she asked Minelli and shifted her eyes towards Jane's form. "Sir—."

Jane watched Lisbon become quiet when she realized that Minelli's face had grown firm, his jaw set. She had overstepped a fine line by questioning her new superior's choice.

"Yes, _that_ Patrick Jane," Minelli said and looked over at Jane in an apologetic manner. "Mr. Jane, I'd like you to meet our newest agent, Teresa Lisbon. She just transferred in from the San Francisco Police Department."

He held out his hand towards Teresa Lisbon and watched as she, with much trepidation, took it. He gave it a firm shake, smiled, and waited for her to have some sort of response similar to the ones he usually received. For example, he rather prided himself whenever a woman would throw herself in his direction. But for some odd reason, the pretty Teresa Lisbon was not doing as expected.

"The pleasure's mine," he said to her, trying to dazzle her with the brightest smile he could summon.

When she began to withdraw her hand from him, she nodded and looked at her boss before responding. "The same."

At that moment, Patrick Jane realized that he had just met one of the most intriguing women he may ever encounter in his lifetime. And he would have great enjoyment in dissecting every single layer and shield that was held in place by this petite rookie.

Sensing that he ought to be gone, he started to walk backwards to the elevators. "I shall see you around, Agent Teresa Lisbon," he smiled at her once more and turned his back. Only once did he turn around and gaze at the curious little woman.

And curious was she indeed.

**Like/dislike? **


	2. Chapter One

**I'm quite surprised that the prologue received as much attention that it did! Thank you so much, all of you! Thank you for reading, reviewing, subscribing, and favourting. Quite mind-blown about it, actually, as it's an AU. **

**Kate alto - I'm really glad that you are liking it! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! :)  
>Kuhlama - Thank you so much! I hope I can keep it up!<strong>

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I ever, own The Mentalist. **

Chapter One

**September 5-6, 2002**

Patrick Jane was thankful for several things. One, he was thankful for his ever-escalating career. Two, he was thankful that his career happened to be _particularly _entertaining. And three, Patrick Jane was thankful that he had decided to work with the police.

That being said, if he had not been working with the police, then he would have never met one delectable Teresa Lisbon. As soon as his eyes landed on the petite homicide detective when he saw her in that corridor outside Minelli's office, he knew he was a goner. Despite that not being the most wondrous way to meet a woman, it only made it more memorable.

Teresa Lisbon wore her dark hair short, a little bit off the shoulders, which framed her face splendidly. The shortness of her locks also helped create her eyes to pop from her face. Her eyes alone were enough to make any man lust for her. That is, if she didn't intimidate them first.

Yes, the little firecracker of a detective was indeed a feisty one. She took no crap from anybody. Especially him.

"Snap out of it, Jane."

Temporarily pushing away his thoughts, Jane looked over at Lisbon as she came to stand beside him, a clipboard clutched in her hand. He smiled at her, one that would make all the middle-aged women turn into puddles of goo, and made a gesture for her to move past him.

"After you, Teresa." He knew she was not fond of him referring to her by her first name, but that was just another part of his elaborate plan in the attempt to seduce her.

She sighed. "Jane…"

He just merely tossed his head to the side. "_Lisbon_."

After her surname left his lips, she shot him a rather annoyed glare. It really didn't help. Her, at least.

Lisbon walked past him up to the most recent murder victim. She stopped before the coroner and started asking away the usual questions. ("What was the time of death?" "Do you have any idea what the murder weapon was?")

Pulling his attentions away from Lisbon, Jane started to look around the crime scene. It was a park, which much was obvious. Very public, so he wanted to immediately assume that it was an anonymous murder. Or, possibly, that's what the murderer wanted everyone to think. Then Jane looked back at the victim. It was a woman. Young, red-headed, and long-legged. Rather pretty, too, if it were not for the knife sticking out of her neck.

He thought it was safe to assume that the knife was the cause of death. Anyone who thought otherwise would surely need to be slapped upside the head. Though, leave it to Lisbon to be thorough and ask away either way.

For a couple of moments, Jane watched Lisbon scribble the last of her notes down. Afterwards, she looked at the coroner, muttered a "thanks" and set off towards Jane. He could not suppress the slight chuckle that left his lips when she scowled at what she had written. Or it could possibly be him. One may never truly know the truth.

She cleared her throat, "Victim's name is Ashley Sergent, twenty-one years old, and resides in Los Angeles."

Hmm, they were in Sacramento. Bit far from home. Especially in September.

"She's no college student," he stated, "Doesn't look the type."

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and scowled again. This time, it was definitely directed at him. "You don't _know_ that! We don't know that!" she protested.

He waved her off, "Meh."

Furrowing her brow, Lisbon clutched the clipboard tighter to her chest. "You pay me to make observations, _Lisbon_. Here I am. Making observations." He gestured to the public park around them. Yep, definitely making observations.

Lisbon looked as if she wanted to bite his head off. No, no she looked like she wanted to shoot him dead.

"Tell me, _Lisbon_, did you find any school identification in her purse?"

The petite detective shook her head, "No," her voice sounded very strained and annoyed. "But that doesn't mean that it couldn't have fallen out of her purse."

Once again, Jane shrugged his shoulders and waved her off. She narrowed her eyes and looked away. Smirking at her actions, he started to walk away and pull out his cell phone. He had to make a call to his wife, and explain how he was unable to be home in time for dinner. That he wouldn't be able to catch his flight.

* * *

><p>The man was infuriating. Patrick Jane, that is. It was blatantly obvious that the man was not only a fraud, but also a licentious, two-timing bastard. It was not an uncommon thing to see the man meandering around Sacramento, heading off to a hotel, with some blonde bimbo on his arm. It only grew worse when he decided to move his unfaithful nature over onto her, rather than keep bedding the willing women. He wouldn't stop with the smoldering looks and suggestive comments. Or when he would "accidentally" brush against her. His advances only annoyed her.<p>

What a cold bastard! He was married to a wonderful woman and a father to a beautiful little girl, and yet he would go off and lay with other women. Had he any conscious? She doubted it.

"Lisbon! Observation room, five minutes!"

Lisbon's eyes snapped over towards her superior, Senior Agent Roderick Martin. Agent Martin was well into his later forties, possibly even fifties. His hair was sparse in some areas, though the hair on his face seemed to make up for it.

She nodded, "Yes, sir," she said.

At his confirmation, Martin gave her a slight nod before he walked off towards the interrogation rooms. Sighing to herself in resignation, she started off a few steps behind him. Much to her dismay, she hated never being able to take lead in interrogations. When she lived and worked for San Francisco PD, and being practically married to the job, she thought that this transfer with all of her honours would grant her the ability to take lead in an interrogation. But of course, she was wrong.

Upon opening the slightly heavy door to the observation room, she almost groaned at the sight of an all-too familiar man standing next to the glass. At the sound of her entrance, he turned and flashed a bright smile in her direction.

"Jane."

He tipped his head towards her, his smile never faltering, "_Lisbon_." And she suddenly started to feel uncomfortable in this position.

Clearing her throat, she looked at a spot on the wall behind him, in an attempt to preoccupy herself. "I thought you'd be home with your wife."

His eyes snapped towards hers, making it impossible for her to look elsewhere. "_We_ have a case," he said, "and I called Angela. Told her that I would be unable to arrive home in time for dinner. Or for the next few days."

Jane moved closer to her and she walked backwards until her back connected with the wall. She didn't like being cornered, and she was quite certain that he knew that. He ended up before her, his face a few centimetres away from hers. He was close enough for her to feel his breath just brushing across her cheek. And that made her think of…never mind.

"Jane…" she said in a warning tone, "What are you doing?"

The man before her pulled back a little bit and looked down at her, "I'm _observing_ my subject," he stated in an almost bored tone, as if tired of telling her this over and over again. "And I must say that I am _riveted_."

Her eyes slipped shut and she tried to hold onto the wall behind her. "Jane, stop."

She felt him pull back away from her, which caused her to open her eyes. He was almost on the other side of the room again, and she straightened her posture. She was about to question as to why he had so suddenly moved when the door to the observation room opened up. In came one of her teammates, Agent Flores.

Agent Flores stopped a second and looked her over. The way he did so wasn't in an unflattering manner, but more so in surprise and concern. She appreciated Agent Flores' dedication to his wife. Unlike another in the room…

"Lisbon, are you all right?"

She nodded her head, "Yes, thanks," and tossed a look over at Jane, who wasn't even trying to hide his grin.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

* * *

><p>Once the interrogation was over, Jane took great pleasure in watching Lisbon scurry out of the observation room. She had kept her head held low, as if she were a wounded puppy running away. It kind of gave him some sort of satisfaction that he could get to her with so little effort.<p>

Well, that was only half the satisfaction. The other half was how her body had responded to him being so close to her. The way her pupils dilated before they slipped shut and the sound of her breath slightly hitching in her throat. Oh, it made him only desire her even more than he had.

After he too had left the observation room, the senior agent came up to him and asked his take on the interrogation. In all honesty, he did not really want to talk about the interrogation, but he did so anyway. There was nothing suspicious about the suspect. The man was just…creepy and craving attention. Therefore, he did not commit the murder. Martin didn't like his observations, but brushed off any complaint before issuing it.

About an hour after the interrogation, he found himself leaving the CBI Headquarters. It was getting rather late, and he wanted to get some appropriate sleep the night before he would spend the next day doing two things: solving a murder case with his "psychic" skills and seducing Teresa Lisbon. Both seemed rather entertaining, and he hoped for the latter to be his reward.

Patrick Jane fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow that night. And he had nothing but pleasant dreams for the duration of his sweet slumber.

The next morning, Jane awakened feeling fresh and well rested. As per usual, from what he had gotten used to due to being on the road for the majority of the year, he showered, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby for breakfast. He then set off for the CBI Headquarters once more that week. He arrived a little bit after nine that morning, and was rather happy to see everything going along as usual. People were moving around in a high-speed as they searched for leads (or coffee). It always brought some kind of smile to Jane's face.

He said his brief hellos to everyone and helped one agent locate the sugar before he sat in a swivel chair to wait for the specific team he worked with. Martin came first, as usual, with his briefcase clutched tightly in a hand. When he walked past Jane, he just gave him a stern nod before continuing onto his office. Jane thought about following him, but decided against it when Flores and Simmons walked through the door. Both men held coffees and chatted in a rather animated tone.

"'Mornin, Jane," Flores said as he walked behind his desk. "Sleep well?"

Jane rather liked Agent Flores. The man was a good one, albeit slightly foolish. He held onto so many false beliefs and claims that it detracted from a more objective point of view on life. Simmons, on the other hand, was a little less foolish. But not by much.

Simmons sat at his desk and plopped a, from what Jane could smell, a bag of glazed donuts on his desk. The very smell brought a smile to Jane's nose, as he knew that the last thing that Simmons needed was a bag full of sugary goodness.

"Seen Lisbon, Jane?" Simmons asked as he started digging through his paper bag.

Jane shook his head, "Not since last night."

The larger (and rather gluttonous) agent raised his eyebrows and looked over at Flores. Flores gave him a similar look, which was one of shock and curiosity. Strange, both hadn't seen Lisbon either. This meant she either spent the night at the CBI or having a really bad morning. Possibly both.

Without giving much thought, Jane took a donut from Simmons and sat back into the swivel chair, looking in the direction of the elevators. After eating the donut and brushing way the bits of glaze that had dropped onto his chest, he stood and made his way towards the elevator. Taking a brief moment to study it, he was rather surprised when the doors opened and out came one Teresa Lisbon.

She wasn't looking up as she walked through the doors, and that is why she ran head-on into him. The coffee she had been holding in her hand was knocked forward, onto him and all over the floor. At the searing pain caused by the hot coffee, Jane jumped back, yelped, and started to pull off his suit jacket.

"Oh, God!" she said, "I'm so—."

Lisbon caught sight of him. "Sorry," she finished.

Some of the coffee had leaked onto his vest, so he unbuttoned it without looking up at her. He had rather liked this suit, and was sorry that it had become soiled with coffee. And despite her apology, he was rather doubtful that she really _was_ sorry due to him being Patrick Jane and all.

Looking up, he smiled. "Could not contain your excitement to see me, could you, Teresa?" he teased.

Jane watched as the colour rushed into Lisbon's cheeks and her eyes narrowed in a dangerous fashion. To most men, she was probably intimidating, but he wasn't most men. He found it rather endearing and sexy to see her like that.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

He looked around, pretending to look bored. "Well, I am consulting…"

Rolling her eyes, she walked away from him and towards the bullpen. The other two agents, Simmons and Flores, glanced up at her. She mumbled something regarding Jane and coffee, and after that, activity went back to normal in the bullpen.

* * *

><p>For Lisbon, it was almost automatic to apologize to whomever she collided into. Especially when she had been holding coffee in her hand. But when she had pulled back slightly, enough to see that it had been Jane, the apology died on her lips. Or at least the sincere one. She only finished the statement because there were people watching.<p>

And of course, he had to start undressing in front of her and make some sort of suggestive comment. At least he did not decide to go further, and fully remove his shirt from his body.

Later, upon noticing that some of the coffee had managed to stain her white blouse, she stood up to go get changed. When she returned to her little desk, a coffee was on top of her desk. Picking it up, she was surprised that it was from a gourmet little shop a couple of blocks away from the CBI. And upon tasting it, the flavour was familiar. And her absolute favourite.

She didn't need to guess as to from whom it was from, and she was tempted to throw it out. But she refused to waste good coffee. Even if it were from an arrogant fraud.

The rest of the day went by surprisingly easy. Jane didn't do anything _that_ rude or _that_ uncalled for. His suggestive comments were even kept to a minimum. By four in the afternoon, the case of Ashley Sergent's murder was solved, and Flores happily bid everyone farewell to go see his son's soccer game. Simmons followed not long after, saying that he ought to take his wife out to eat.

And that just left Lisbon alone in the bullpen, essentially. She sat behind her desk, checked a couple of emails on her slow computer, and tried to think about what kind of take-out she should have for dinner.

Upon deciding on grabbing some Chinese and returning to the bullpen to look over cold cases (Something she'd started doing about three months ago. She found it oddly relaxing) until she would decide to go home, Martin came up to her desk. He looked down at her from where he stood, his brow knitted together.

"Lisbon, you should go."

She raised her eyebrow, "Sir?" she questioned.

Martin took a hand out of his pocket. "The case has been solved and you shouldn't have to be here anymore. Go home."

This wasn't the first time Martin had told her after a case that she ought to go home. She didn't really like being told so, and she still was not planning on leaving.

So, to pacify Martin, she nodded her head. Martin smiled at her, lingered for a second, and walked back towards his office. Lisbon looked over in his direction briefly, took a deep breath, and started to reach for her wallet that was stowed away in her briefcase.

She wasn't really a purse-carrying woman.

Standing from her chair and sticking her wallet in the back pocket of her jeans, she started to make her way out of the bullpen when a familiar head of blond curls came around the corner. She paused for a second and had to bite down on her tongue to refrain from saying anything rude and inappropriate.

From seeing her, he smiled and started over to her. At that moment, she looked towards the elevators, and then back at him.

Giving her a slight nod, he spoke. "Leaving for dinner?"

She gave a quick nod. "Yes. And then I'm going home."

His smile only grew. "Where's your briefcase?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because, you would not be going home without it."

Lisbon stiffened and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sometimes I _do_ leave it behind, Jane."

He shook his head, his grin only growing. "Not before weekends." She rolled her eyes once more and looked up at the ceiling. "Am I right?"

Cocking her head to the side and glaring at him, his smile dulled a little bit and he reached up to scratch his upper lip. He then pulled back away from her and gestured for the elevator.

"No," she said in a defiant manner, "you aren't right."

And she brushed right past him.

**Oh, Jane, you lecher. **


	3. Chapter Two

**Updating quick(ish) is quite nice, isn't it. And quite foreign for me. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, subscribing, and favourting. You guys are awesome! Enjoy this newest chapter.**

**Kate alto - Writing a lecherous Jane is rather fun. I see why the writer's did it. Thank you! :)**

**Kuhlama - Thank you so much! I hope you find chapter two still as nice! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not, nor will I probably ever, own The Mentalist. Bruno Heller does. Lucky man.**

Chapter Two

**September 21, 2002**

Jane drove to Los Angeles sometime on a Friday afternoon about two weeks after he helped solve the Ashley Sergent murder. He had a show the following morning, and was tingling with excitement. He could not help but look forward to not only making more money, but also having immense fun in the process of it all.

When Saturday morning came, he pushed the blankets from his body and began his morning ritual. After showering and making sure that he was clean-shaven, he dressed in a new dark blue suit and was off to the studios. Grabbing a bagel on the way, he paused for a moment when he noticed something peculiar.

Not far from the studio and about a block away from the little bagel shop, there was crime scene tape boxing in a specific location. Without giving it much thought, he looped around once more and glanced around for any sign of the CBI. Seeing none, he went on his way towards the studio once more.

The show went on as expected. He had enjoyed it, but because he saw the crime scene tape earlier, his mind kept on wandering on and off as to whether or not he should drive back while he goes back to his hotel. He found this rather irksome, and that he could not do his job as perfect as his "usual." There were a couple of moments when the person looked surprised or shocked that he had made a small mistake, but he was usually able to cover it up. It took extra effort this time to come up with a smooth recovery every time he screwed up. This was unlike him.

So, he thought it would be a good idea to make another loop. This would only pacify that niggling batch of thoughts that kept his thoughts muddled. He did not even want to think of what sleep would be like if he did not go investigate his suspicions further.

Slipping into his silver BMW, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed home. He waited for a couple of seconds before a woman on the other end picked up the phone. She sounded haggard and restless all the same.

"_Hello?"_

"Angela," he said with a sigh, "I will not be home in time for dinner."

On the other end of the line, he heard her take in a deep, frustrated breath. For a second, he felt guilt creep up along his spine for letting Angela and Charlotte down once more. He was also quite certain that Angela had been expecting this.

"_Patrick, you told her that you would be home. You told our daughter!"_

The guilt washed in once more and he felt some of the colour drain from his face. He loved his little girl, contrary to what a lot of people that lived in the neighbourhood thought. They saw him come and go "as he pleased" and often doubted his love for little Charlotte. But that was all false, for he loved her even more than his wife.

He swallowed, "I will be home later tonight, Ange."

Angela did not take the time to say anything else. Without even so much as making a sound on the other line, she just ended the call. For a couple of seconds, Jane was left staring at the blank screen in silence before he started up the engine of his BMW and drove off towards the crime scene.

Jane found it rather fast. The scene was hard to miss with police cars and everyone scurrying about. From what he could tell in the car, the body had been removed and whisked away to the medical examiner's office.

Parking his car along a curb, he stepped out and moved on towards the scene, straightening his jacket in the process. A deputy outside of the yellow tape stopped him, and he was about to reach into his pocket to "take out his identification" when he heard someone call him over.

Looking over the deputy's shoulder, Jane was rather happy to see Simmons coming his way. It meant two things: one, he could get in under the tape. And two, Lisbon was here somewhere.

"Simmons!" he said with a smile adorning his face, "Good to see you!"

Simmons came up to the tape, next to the deputy, and flashed his badge. The larger agent mumbled something and the tape was held up for Jane to walk under. Flashing a smile to the deputy and offering him a slight wave, Jane walked underneath and in step with Simmons.

"Didn't know you were going to be here, Jane."

Jane shrugged, "I was in the neighbourhood," he said in a simple manner.

Simmons grunted, "Yeah, and good thing too. We just took over this case, and we could use your opinion on a few things."

Nodding, Jane surveyed the area once more. It was a public place; no one in his or her right mind would question that. "Martin?"

"Setting up the temporary office."

"Flores?"

"Questioning civilians who were on the scene relatively early."

Jane peered at Simmons closely. "Lisbon?"

Simmons chuckled, "She's speaking with other officials. Dunno 'bout you, but I think Martin gave her the harder job out of all of us. Most officials don't like talking to her, you know?"

Jane nodded, knowing very well that most people despised speaking to a petite woman, even though she was a state agent. And they could probably sense that she was rather new at being an aforementioned state agent, as she had recently transferred to the CBI from San Francisco.

"Yeah, I know," he said and looked around again, finally seeing Flores flipping around his notebook.

"Listen," he continued, "Can you call Martin on your cell phone and tell him I am here?"

Simmons nodded and started pulling out his thick, black phone. The darn things just kept on getting smaller.

* * *

><p>With a huff, Lisbon snapped her notebook closed and started back towards where she saw Simmons a little while ago. She <em>hated<em> talking to local law enforcement! They always looked down upon her for being two things: under thirty and a woman.

Pausing and looking around, she was surprised to see that Simmons was nowhere near where he was a little over five minutes ago. Strange, he wasn't one for moving around a lot at crime scenes. Especially if they involved traveling long distances in order to arrive at them.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Flores doing his "usual" thing and talking around with everyone and taking notes in his chicken-scratch handwriting. She was about to go over to him and ask about Simmons when the man in question walked past her. With an all-too familiar man.

"Jane!" her voice went up a couple of notches.

He turned around at the sound of her voice and smiled, "Lisbon!" he said full of excitement, "How are you?"

She just stood there, rage threatening to blow over. She should have known that he would come – Los Angeles isn't but an hour from Malibu, and he did a lot of his shows here.

"Fine," she managed out of her clenched teeth.

Her frustration could only make his smile grow larger, and that is what made her feel the overwhelming urge to punch him in the nose. The past two weeks had been wonderful and Jane-free. A record, if she may say.

His smile grew and the corners of his eyes crinkled. He looked over at Simmons, tipped his head as a way of saying goodbye, and started over to her. As soon as she saw that, she turned and started off in a rapid pace towards the rented vehicle.

She knew he was following her, she would be naïve if she denied that fact. Ever since he had first laid eyes on her, he had been following her around like a lost puppy. Well, not really lost. More like a determined dog seeking a female. And that thought sent a series of shudders up her spine.

"Teresa!" he called from beside her, which caused her to jerk off to the side before continuing her trek towards the car.

When she grasped onto the door handle and started opening it, she gasped when a larger hand pushed it closed once more. Turning on the spot, ("Hey!") she glared at the man of her annoyance and slight anger. The man, however, seemed to enjoy seeing her flustered anger steadily grow.

Jane leaned in close to her, pressing his body closer to her. "Why do we play this game, Teresa?"

His eyes bore down unto hers, burning into her. She looked off to the side, seeing one hand near to her head and then looked down, finding (or feeling) its partner at her waist. He had only touched her once, and that was when he shook her hand at their first meeting. So, this was crossing the very thin line between them.

"Jane…" she said in a warning tone. "Get your hand off of me before I break it."

The blond man only shook his head, "Uh, no."

"You're married," she reasoned.

He shrugged, "Minor detail."

"Jane…"

"Patrick."

"Jane…"

"Teresa."

She rolled her eyes at him and tried to get away from his grasp, only to still be held in place. He was quite strong, under those spruce suits. And that was quite a surprise. Still, it did nothing to staunch the anger that was beginning to roll off of her in waves.

When her eyes returned to his, she was startled at how intense and serious he appeared. There was no joking glint, like there always was. No, he looked dead-serious as to what message he was trying to get past to her. And that is why she wanted to strangle him.

"Go out to dinner with me."

Her heart stopped for a second and she peered at him through narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"

He leaned in a bit closer, "Go out with me," he said, "to dinner."

"Will you let me go? If I do?" she reasoned and he nodded. "All right," she said whispered, "I'll go out to dinner with you."

* * *

><p>For the remainder of the afternoon, Jane felt as if he were through the moon. He had not thought he would have to go to "extreme" measures to get Lisbon to go out with him, but he found them all very worth the troubles.<p>

In order to get ready for the evening, he made sure to purchase a nice dress for her. Knowing that Lisbon had definitely not packed one for the case. He had spent a good amount of time pouring over the latest fashions, and finally decided on a simple black one. He did not want other men glancing around the restaurant and spotting her, like they no doubt would have if he had purchased the red dress.

He picked up a quick pair of nice sandals, guessing at her size and deciding it would be best if he did not buy any actual shoe, and pair of diamond earrings. Smirking to himself as he drove to her hotel, he knew she would not like that he took matters into his own hands when it came to dressing her.

Upon knocking on the door and handing her the bags, she immediately protested. Yes, he was expecting this, and continued to push the bag closer to her and inform her "it would be rude for her to reject it." And with a huff of extreme annoyance, she grabbed the bag and walked into the bathroom, making sure it was locked tight.

A few minutes later, she reemerged from the bathroom, looking rather sheepish and uncomfortable dressed as a woman. And just as Jane suspected, she looked delectable. The dress fit her body like a glove, and he was glad to have opted for the size he did. The larger size would have worked, too, but not like it was now. The way it emphasized the curves of her hips made him almost decide to get her drunk whilst at dinner and seduce her as he returned her to the hotel. Though, that would most likely not turn out too well.

"You look wonderful," he said as he stood up from the edge of her bed.

When he stood, he noticed the cross around her neck. A few times he had seen the chain as it glinted in the fluorescent lights at the CBI, and he frequently tried to guess as to what it was. He would never have guessed that it was a cross. But it made sense.

Lisbon looked down at her toes and narrowed her eyes. "Where are we going?"

She crossed her arms over chest and tipped her head to the side in an expectant manner. Ah, he knew there had been a woman underneath all those man clothes.

"It's a surprise."

"Jane…"

"Patrick."

In frustration, she shut her eyes and held up a hand. "Patrick," she said in a rather calm tone, "Can you please tell me where we are going?"

He smiled and shook his head, "Sorry, my dear, but I cannot."

Walking across the room and touching the door handle, he gestured for her to follow him. She rolled her eyes and breathed a sigh of frustration as she grabbed her wallet. "Dammit, Jane, tell me!"

Jane just smiled at her and tugged the door open. As she walked through it, they both knew that their night would change their outlook on one another.

* * *

><p>She arrived back in her hotel room at almost midnight, exhausted. Despite what she had thought at first, an evening with Patrick Jane wasn't so bad. Of course, yes, he still laid out multiple suggestive comments, but other than that, he was a gentleman. Though, she was quite sure that he had an ulterior motive as to why he was acting like a perfect gentleman. She pretty much called it out once she started back towards the hotel, when he said he would "escort" her. Laughing, she denied him.<p>

Seeing her bed, she slipped off her new sandals and plopped down upon it. The mattress was soft and she felt her eyes grow heavy. As she continued to slip further into a dreamless reverie, she kept on trying to tell herself that what she had done last night wasn't wrong. That it was acceptable for her to go out to eat with a married man and have a good time. She did nothing wrong.

Groaning and sitting up in the bed, she huffed and set to work on removing her dress. After slipping the fabric from her body, she curled up inside the bed's warm confines and fell fast asleep. The last image in her mind was of Patrick Jane as he smiled at her across the table.

* * *

><p>It was late when Jane got home, past one in the morning for sure. Quietly, he slipped inside his house and made his way towards the stairs, wondering why Angela had left the main lights on downstairs. Shaking all thoughts from his head, he was about to start his journey on them, he heard a noise that snapped him out of the thought of going to bed.<p>

"Ange?" he called out.

Not to his surprise, the dark silhouette of a woman stood from the couch. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she made her way across the room, anger evident in her brown eyes.

"Where were you?" she demanded in a hoarse voice.

He looked at her in the eye. "In Los Angeles, helping the CBI solve the case."

Behind him, was a clock, and her eyes flickered towards it. "Even at one in the morning?"

"Ange, it is about an hour drive from Los Angeles, you know that. And I could not just leave the cops hanging. You know how incapable at doing their jobs they are!"

Angela brought her hands down from her chest and came in closer. "Did you help any _female_ agents, Patrick?" she spat.

He pretended to be hurt and took a step back away from her, his hand flying to his chest. "Why would you even say that?"

Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him full of rage. "I know that Martin has a pretty little agent on his team."

At the indirect mention of Lisbon, Jane raised his eyebrows. "Are you sleeping with her?"

Angela's arms crossed over her chest and she switched her foot stance. Jane's eyes locked with hers ones more, eyebrows falling back to their usual place. He was quite surprised at Angela's direct question, but he also knew that she was no mark.

So, preparing himself for a short time and coming up with a quick answer, he said the first thing that came to mind. "No, I am not having an affair with her."

Alarm flashed through Angela's eyes, and Jane knew she was skeptical about it. In actuality, he was telling the truth. He was not sleeping with Teresa Lisbon at the moment, though he would be lying if he had told her that he did not wish to.

"Ange," he said her name and grasped her arm. "We should go to sleep."

He would sleep on the couch that night.

**Or possibly more nights on the couch. He kind of deserves it. After all, he did get a bit more direct with Lisbon. **


	4. Chapter Three

**I thought I'd update this before I packed up my car and headed back to school, as it's been close to a week since I last updated this (sorry!). Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, enjoyed, subscribed, and favourited. You guys are awesome! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. Sadly wasn't in my stocking. Bad Santa! **

Chapter Three

**October 12, 2002**

Jane found himself back in Sacramento a little after October blew in. He had no show planned, but the CBI had called him in to help investigate the murder of a young man, Russell Andrews. Russell had been shot point blank in broad daylight, and so far, they CBI had hit dead end after dead end. So, naturally, he offered his services, despite Angela's expressed wishes that he stay home.

When he had first seen Lisbon upon walking into the Headquarters, she first gave him al look of surprise and then annoyance. He was quite happy that the annoyance happened _after_ the surprise this time. It was an improvement compared to the last time he had first met up with her at a crime scene.

"Would you like to do dinner again?" he asked when he fell in step with her.

Lisbon looked over her shoulder at him and then back to front. "No," she said with an annoyed tone.

"Why?"

"Because I have a boyfriend, Jane," she snapped over her shoulder.

Jane paused and looked at her, she stopped a little bit away from him after realizing that he had halted. She was lying, of course! He raised his eyebrow at her and smiled. "Liar!"

Lisbon rolled her eyes and turned around once more to continue on walking. Quickening up his pace a little bit to catch up with her, he was in step with her again, almost jogging to keep up with her.

"You lied to me now, why is that?" he questioned, "You seemed to have enjoyed yourself the last time we had dinner together."

She stopped again and turned to look at him. "You're married," she said through clenched teeth, "Stop it!"

He was about to toss his head to the side and say "meh" when she narrowed her eyes and continued. "I don't _like_ you, Jane! And I don't want to start something that I already know the end to!"

As she turned away from him, he reached out and grabbed her elbow. Tugging her closer to him, he sobered up his expression a little bit, knowing she would not like to see a carefree expression on his face.

"How do you think it is going to end, then?" he asked her.

Lisbon shook her head, as if she were trying to avoid answering the question. "Badly."

"And what makes you say that?" he asked as he cocked his head to the side. "Why so pessimistic?"

She shook her head again. "I'm not being pessimistic, Jane, I'm being realistic. Take your hand off of me."

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Jane, I'm warning you."

He just merely shrugged his shoulders, not seeming to realize how truly annoyed she was at him. It was a dangerous combination, for her to be angry with him as he held onto her elbow.

At his reluctance to unhand her, Lisbon's eyes narrowed almost dangerously. She moved back slightly, tugging her arm as if to try and get away from him once more. He still did not release her from his grip. Drawing her mouth into a thin line, Lisbon clenched her other hand into a fist and began to raise it. Jane would have noticed it if he had not been so focused on studying her face. When she lifted her clenched hand, that was when he finally realized that he really had ought to let go. Without giving him another chance to back away, she hit him squarely in the nose with her knuckles.

Jane instantly yelped and jumped back, bring his hand up to gently prod at his nose. It was turning red and Lisbon could see the blood begin to flow from his nostrils. In slight shock, he looked up at her.

"You hit me!" he said accusingly.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I told you so."

Without letting him put in another word, she turned away from him and started to walk away towards the bathroom. He was sure that her knuckles hurt, as for a small woman, she sure packet a punch.

She had told him that she already knew how this would all end. Though, he was not one hundred percent sure she was correct, he knew there was some shred of truth in her statement. And that she was being realistic. And pessimistic, too. Lisbon was only protecting herself, and Jane knew that he would have to gain her trust and affection.

Leaning into the nearby wall, he smiled at his thoughts about the first two steps of seduction, and he hoped that Teresa Lisbon would not be immune. He would first have to gain her trust, and then her affection. How he planned to gain both, he had no such idea, but he doubted they would be hard to come by.

He would have to do something out of character for her to see him in a different light, he decided. She would have to see a more honest and kind side of him in order to gain her trust. Though, it would be tough as to how he would be able to manage that.

Now, he needed a pack of ice.

* * *

><p>Splashing some cold water in her face, Lisbon looked at her reflection. She hated how she could allow Jane to get to her, and that she had even thought about proceeding into the land of being the other woman. Hell, she should just shoot herself for possibility thinking of such actions! The man had a beautiful wife and daughter, and she would not be the one to screw that up.<p>

Though, something told her that he had not given up. Nor would he anytime soon despite the fact that he had just become her human punching bag. Quite literally. Patrick Jane seemed like the kind of man who liked to get what he wanted, and absolutely hated being denied anything.

She jumped when she heard Martin bang on the bathroom door, calling for her to get a move on and go after a lead with Flores. Glancing at her reflection once more for good measure, she ensured that she was well composed and exited the bathroom and confirmed to Martin that she would indeed go with Flores.

"Women," she heard Martin mumble as he started to walk back to his office. He was most likely griping about women and their tendency to stay in the bathroom for a long period of time.

Well, in her defense, Simmons was far worse than she was! Especially if he had Thai food during a stakeout and then some sort of unhealthy junk food to top it all off. Though, he did not know that she knew about this. Simmons, that is, for his wife wouldn't approve of his gluttonous behaviour.

She dropped by the bullpen to see Flores holstering his firearm. Eyeing him for a second, she walked over to her desk and pulled her own out and started to place hers on her hip. While doing this, she ignored the feeling that someone was watching her. She didn't need to look around to try and see as to who was watching her. She already knew it was Jane.

"You ready, Lisbon?" Flores asked her as he picked up a couple of files and started handing them over to her.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."

Flores glanced down at her knuckles, which were still red, and only raised an eyebrow. He didn't ask any questions, but only snatched up the car keys and started to head down to the garage towards the vehicles.

As they started to walk out of the bullpen, Lisbon glanced over her shoulder and flashed Jane an annoyed look. He stared back at her as if he were trying to figure her out, and this unnerved her to a certain extent.

Taking a deep breath, she followed suite after Flores down to the CBI issue Suburbans and went off to follow some leads. And she hoped that, by some miracle, Jane was gone when she got back.

* * *

><p>At the suspect's home, Lisbon felt uneasy. As soon as she and Flores had pulled up to the curb, the feeling set in and the hairs on the back of her neck stood tall. When they had walked up to the door, Lisbon was sure to keep her hand in close proximity to her firearm. Despite the reassuring looks that Flores kept on shooting her, she had a gut feeling that this place was unwelcome to law enforcement agents.<p>

Flores took lead asking the suspect various questions, and she should be writing them down like he had asked, but she kept on looking around the area. Something was not right, she could feel it, though she could not put her finger on it.

"Where were you last night, Mr. Stevens?" Flores asked the burly man before them. "These are standard questions, sir."

Mr. Stevens shook his head, his eyes narrowing almost dangerously. "I didn't do nothing," he spat.

Flores nodded stiffly, "We're not saying that you did anything, Mr. Stevens. We're just asking you where you were last night."

The man before them shook his head again, not really liking the attention he was getting. Lisbon didn't feel unease with Stevens' attitude, but she didn't like he refused to cooperate with them. That was never a good sign, especially in a rather "ramshackle" neighbourhood as this was.

"I was here last night," Stevens finally said.

"Can anyone confirm that?"

Stevens shook his head and narrowed his beady eyes. "I was alone."

Flores drew his lips into a thin line and looked over at Lisbon. She grasped onto her pen tighter and shrugged at her colleague.

"What was your relationship to Russell Andrews?" Flores finally asked.

Stevens shrugged coldly. "Never heard of him before in my life."

At his reply, Flores narrowed his eyes. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Stevens," Flores said to the suspect and turned away, gesturing over his shoulder for Lisbon to follow. "Did you write anything down?" he asked her.

She shook her head. "No, I wasn't able to focus."

Flores nodded. "Yeah, this place has me feeling unsettled. I say we get out of here and just write a couple of things down for Martin."

Though Lisbon didn't really agree on that plan, she nodded in response. This place was creepy, and she wanted to get away from it as fast as she could.

As they were making their way back to the car, Lisbon jumped at the sound of something rustling in a nearby tree. She quickly turned her head in search of the cause and calmed down. She just saw a couple of pesky squirrels running about in a frisky manner. Mumbling something incoherent under her breath, she started back towards the SUV.

Just as her hand touched the handle, she heard it. She heard the sound of a powerful gun discharging from somewhere behind her and bullets lodging into the police vehicle. She jumped away and grabbed her gun from its holster, took aim, and started firing. She was not one hundred percent sure if she was even firing in the right direction, but it was better than nothing.

"Take cover!" Flores yelled at her from somewhere off to her left.

Blinking for a couple of seconds, she jumped sideways and began to run behind the SUV. She pressed her back up against it, her hands shaking as they clutched onto her firearm. Beside her was Flores, breathing heavily and bleeding from the upper arm.

"You okay?" she asked over the gunfire.

He only nodded, took in a deep breath and glanced around the car when the firing stopped for a few moments. "He's probably reloading the gun now. Call for backup!"

When Flores's teeth clenched, Lisbon grasped onto the door handle and wrenched the door open. She quickly fumbled for the police radio and pulled back, pressing the button and yelling into the police radio that shots were fired, and that they needed help.

The shots started up again as she started to climb out of the SUV. The glass broke above her, some of it flying out and hitting the back of her neck and hand. She yelped when the glass shards cut into her hand, and she bit her lip to prevent anyone from knowing that she had been hurt, albeit slightly.

The shooter paused for a couple of seconds, and then resumed. Lisbon wondered why for a little bit, but her thoughts were answered when a shot entered the upholstery beside her body. The shooter had been re-positioning his firearm so he could fire directly into the car.

Bracing her weight on his upper arms, despite the pain in her hand, Lisbon pushed off the seat and backwards out of the car door. She landed on the concrete road hard, her head slapping back. For a little bit under a second, her vision completely blacked out.

"LISBON!"

She felt a hand grab her upper arm and drag her off to the side. When her eyes started to open, she heard sirens quickly approaching in the distance. Relief flooded her and she looked at Flores, who was crouched over her. Here she could see his wound more clearly. It looked like he had been grazed by the bullet, but looked all right.

When the police arrived and surrounded the scene, Lisbon realized that her heart was beating erratically inside her chest. She already knew what she was experiencing; she knew she was having an adrenaline rush. Taking a deep breath, she let her body rest against the bullet hole-ridden SUV.

Everything became a blur after that.

* * *

><p>When Jane had heard that shots had been fired, he decided that this would be the perfect opportunity for him to act like he cared. Well, in some sort of way he <em>did<em> care, but this was his chance to make it seem like he had different motives than he actually did.

He arrived at the scene with Martin and Simmons, his eyes scanning around for Lisbon. He saw her rather quickly, and was not surprised to see her wrapped in a blanket and looking from the decimated car to the house where he assumed the bad guys lived.

"Lisbon?" he called as he stepped out of the car. "Are you all right?"

Her eyes snapped towards him and she raised her eyebrows, quite surprised at his entrance. He had been around when shootouts happened, but never actually at them. Once hearing about them, he would stay tucked away safely at the CBI Headquarters.

"Jane?"

He came to stand close to her, his eyes raking over her frame. She shivered under his gaze and tried to pull the blanket ever her more tightly. Her hair was messed up, everywhere, actually. She had a rather rough looking scratch on her cheek and from what he could tell, one of her hands were bandaged.

"Are you all right?" he asked again, actually feeling some sort of concern at the appearance of her injuries.

Nodding, she loosened her grasp on the blanket. "Yeah, I'm fine," she looked over at the house and back at the car again. Apparently, she was still shocked as to what had just happened.

"And Flores?"

She whipped her head back in his direction and quirked her eyebrow. She seemed shocked that he had asked her about Flores. He would have been too, if he was not trying to seduce her.

"He'll be all right," she answered.

He nodded and looked at her for a couple of seconds when she continued. "The Stevens brothers killed Russell Andrews," she told him.

"Do we know why?" he asked, his eyes never leaving her.

She shook her head. "No, we don't know why."

Two days later, they figured out that Russell Andrews had unknowingly stumbled upon a drug deal. One that the Stevens brothers happened to have been involved with, and he hadn't stood a chance the moment his eyes had made contact with the senior brother.

**I felt like Lisbon needed to physically voice her own opinion towards Jane in this chapter. He was getting far to comfy with getting too close to her and putting his hands around her. **


	5. Chapter Four

**Thank you to those who subscribed and favourited, lets me know that people are reading! Also, a little shout-out to Holly (Brown_Eyes_Parker) as it's her birthday. Happy Birthday, Holly! Have a marvelous day! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor will I ever (probably) own The Mentalist. Sadness. **

Chapter Four

**October 30-31, 2002**

Honestly Jane did not realize that Angela would have had such a severe reaction to him appearing at a crime scene during a firefight. She yelled at him, threw some of her favourite china around, and left the house for a few hours. A little after midnight, she stumbled into the house drunker than her brother had been after finding out about their engagement.

So, to pacify her, he stayed away from the California Bureau of Investigation for a couple of weeks. Martin was not too pleased to learn of this and resorted to calling Minelli to complain about his consultant not being available. Which meant that Minelli called shortly afterwards to demand as to why Jane had told Martin "no." Angela was rather pleased when Jane informed both law enforcers that he would be unable to help them for a couple of weeks, as his wife "needed" him.

Now Halloween was imminent, which meant that a lot of fun and sadistic murders were to happen soon. Also meaning that the CBI would be busy over the next couple of days, and so would Jane. He was quite happy about this, as he had always wanted to work a Halloween murder ever since he saw that criminal procedure special about a year ago. So, he was not surprised when his phone began to rang.

A day earlier, a murder had occurred in one of Leo Carrillo State Beach's sea caves. Albeit surprised that he had not received any news about this earlier, Jane quickly grabbed his suit jacket, kissed his wife on the cheek, and went on his merry way.

Due to it being at October's end, it was not warm at the beach. Jane was rather glad for his decision to bring his jacket as soon as he stepped out of his car and started scanning the area for Martin and the team. As usual, he spotted Simmons first.

Simmons, who appeared to be having a hard time walking around in the sand, looked very fatigued as he clutched his notepad and coffee close to his large frame. He was quite pleased to see Jane come up close to him, no doubt hoping that the case would be closed faster.

"Caucasian girl, Lauren Webb, nineteen, appears to have been strangled," Simmons began as Jane approached.

Jane peered over at the larger man. "Strangled? We're at a beach. It would be easier to drown her, would it not?"

Simmons nodded, "Yeah, that's what I said. But Martin said not to assume anything yet."

"Meh, Martin Schmartin." Jane waved him off and continued towards one of the sea caves. Simmons grunted and started after him, his breathing becoming more and more laboured.

Pausing, Jane looked over his shoulder at the heavy agent behind him. "Where's Lisbon?"

Simmons grunted again and squeezed his eyes shut. "She's still talking to the local law enforcement, I think."

Jane shrugged. "I think she is rather tired of that position, don't you agree?"

Nodding, Simmons started off towards the cave in an effort to get ahead of Jane. Smiling, Jane started to walk away from the sea caves and back towards where he saw a swarm of local law enforcement. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Simmons heave his shoulders upward in irritation.

* * *

><p>The tip of her pencil went through the paper yet again and she had to reign in every semblance of self-control to keep from throwing the paper into the ocean. Of all the things she hated doing, talking with the local law enforcers was at the top of the list. It was right next to doing laundry at that seedy Laundromat a block from her apartment.<p>

"Good morning, Lisbon!"

At the sound of that all-too familiar voice, Lisbon set her jaw and clenched her hand tighter around her pencil. She knew that Jane lived in Malibu, but was hoping that he would continue his personal time for a much longer duration than she knew possible.

"Ah, a little nipper out here, don't you agree?"

"Yes," she said in a low tone.

She heard Jane breathe out of his mouth. "Exactly. Want to grab a coffee?"

Pausing, she turned to look at the familiar blond man. He looked the same as he had since she had last seen him, minus the slight concern over the shootout she had been in that day. Though he did look sincere in treating her to coffee.

"You don't like coffee," she accused.

He shrugged his shoulders. "The coffee shop I'm talking about has tea, too."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her footing. "I thought you were very picky over your tea."

"I can make a couple of small expenses to my taste buds."

Lisbon leaned back a little and started to weigh the pros and cons of grabbing coffee with Jane. She was, in fact, chilled to the bone and wanted nothing more than a nice cup of coffee. Though, he probably had some sort of ulterior motive.

"No."

The corners of his mouth drooped in slight disappointment, but he backed away from her. She watched as he started back towards a huffing and puffing Simmons and she turned away to continue what she had previously been doing.

She finished speaking with the local law enforcers twenty minutes later and decided that a cup of coffee sounded nice. Flipping her notepad shut, she walked to one of the CBI's rented vehicles and drove off towards the nearest coffee shop. Much to her dismay, Jane was right when it came to the location of a decent coffee shop. But still, she was just happy to have been able to grab something warm and a medium-sized cookie before she returned to the crime scene.

Upon returning to the crime scene, Martin had arrived. He saw her immediately and ordered her to go with Simmons to the morgue. The medical examiner had found something strange after a closer inspection that needed immediate attention.

About fifteen minutes later, Simmons pulled up to the small morgue and parked the car. It had taken them awhile to find it, but they were both relieved as soon as it came into view. They flashed their badges at the door and stepped into the chilled room full of the dead. On one of the two tables lay the body of a girl, and around her were two men. One that appeared to be in his early sixties with greying hair above his ears and a large belly which caused the buttons to his coat to strain. The second man was Patrick Jane.

At the sound of the door closing behind them, both the medical examiner and Jane looked up. When Jane saw Lisbon, his lips curled upwards into a large smile.

"How'd you get in here, Jane?" Simmons asked as he stopped by the deceased girl's head.

Jane shrugged. "I flashed my card and said I was with the CBI."

As Lisbon came up at the opposite side of the table, away from Jane, he winked at her. At that, she knew that he had somehow manipulated the medical examiner. He probably had something on the elder man, that bastard.

Rolling her eyes, she moved them over to the supine body lying on the table, deep read marks prominent around the throat.

"Strangulation was not the cause of death," the medical examiner rasped.

Simmons blinked and looked over at Jane, who beamed back at him. Lisbon could not help but roll her eyes once more and make brief eye contact with the examiner. The medical examiner took in a small breath, coughed, and continued on with his evaluation.

"The cause of death was exsanguination."

At this, it was Jane's turn to blink. He stepped a bit closer to the body and leaned in. Lisbon smirked at his actions and crossed her arms over her chest with a sense of smug satisfaction that the infamous Patrick Jane was wrong. But then it prompted the question from everyone in the room, save for the medical examiner.

"How? There are only ligature marks around her neck," Simmons said as he gestured to the angry marks around the deceased's neck.

The medical examiner looked up and Lisbon could have sworn that she saw a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. She furrowed her brow and stepped a bit closer to the table, trying to see if she had missed anything.

Pushing back her hair from the side of her neck, the medical examiner pointed to two puncture marks parallel to the other. When she leaned in to get a closer look at the marks, she felt something brush up behind her and a chill moved up her spine. Her breath caught in her throat and she looked over to where Jane had been standing. At the sight of nothing before her, she was certain it was Jane behind her.

Without giving him any warning, she shifted her footing a bit and slammed her foot down on the toe-area of his shoes. His body jumped closer to hers for a second before jumping backwards as he yelped in the process. He hit the spare table near the one the murder victim's cold body lay.

"Are you all right, Jane?" Simmons asked, his eyebrow very much quirked with puzzlement.

Lisbon watched, with much satisfaction, as Jane gulped and nodded, shaking his foot in the most discreet way possible. She couldn't help it when the corners of her mouth started to turn upwards for a brief couple of seconds. Jane's eyes locked on with hers and her mouth immediately dropped back to its normal state. His expression looked almost dangerous, and not in a kind of violent way. It was the kind that made an unwanted shiver run down the column of her vertebrae.

"Superb," he said without taking his eyes off of Lisbon.

* * *

><p>Jane's foot was still throbbing as he slowly limped towards his car. He should have known that if he had gotten too close to her too often, Lisbon would eventually show some form of violence towards him. And now his poor toes paid the price for his apparent lapse of common sense inside the morgue.<p>

When his hand touched the cool metal of his car door handle, his cell phone began to chirp from the inside of his pocket. Pausing, he plucked it out and looked at the screen. _**Home**_ it read in clear letters. Taking a deep breath, he pulled open the flap and held it to his ear.

"Hi, Ange, I'll be home for dinner. I promise."

When he did not hear Angela's voice on the other line immediately, he got a bit worried. But his fears went away once he heard Charlotte's voice clearly on the other line. "_Daddy_!"

"Charlotte!" He was very surprised to hear his daughter's voice on the other line. She should have been in school, as it was Thursday. What was Angela doing?

He took a deep breath and scratched a spot between his eyes. "Honey, why are you not at school?"

Without missing a beat, Charlotte rapidly started speaking on the other end. "Daddy, mommy is in bed! And she's really, really white!"

Jane blanched. Despite the fact that he and Angela had not been getting along as of late, he did not wish for her to become ill. "Is mommy sick?"

"She says her tummy hurts," Charlotte replied, static coming across from the other line. The little girl probably had the chord wrapped around her little fists and she talked to her father.

Taking in a deep breath, Jane tried to of what to do. Obviously he could not leave Charlotte home alone with an ill Angela, and the little girl had to go to school. "I'll be right there, honey."

"Okay daddy!"

Charlotte would be happy to see her father anyway. Whenever he was around, she would bounce around the house singing happy songs. Then she would come up and sit on his lap to tell him about her various academic "adventures" with her friends.

Hitting a button, Jane folded his phone back up and stuck it into his pocket. With a sigh, he started the car and headed back to his home, where he would assess Angela, give her some Tylenol, and take Charlotte to school.

* * *

><p>Wrinkling her nose as she poured over the files, Lisbon flipped the piece of paper over once more. God she hated Halloween cases! The weirdos always decided to go to the extremes around this time of the year. And such cases have proved to be absolutely no different since becoming a part of the CBI.<p>

From her little rickety chair in the set-up office, she gazed over the files she had been handed earlier. She watched Martin and Simmons escort a large, burly suspect towards one of the interrogation rooms. She wondered how they picked him up so quickly, but then again, he somehow resembled a vampire. Simmons probably asked around and mentioned the key word "vampire" to the right people.

Setting aside the papers, she stood and walked a few steps behind them. She would like to hear this interrogation, as in all of her years as a law enforcement worker, she has actually never dealt with a vampire case like this.

"I didn't do anything!" the man growled out as he was steered into a seat across from Simmons and Martin.

Martin looked up from the suspect to Lisbon and gestured with his head for her to go into the interrogation room. She nodded her affirmation, took a couple of steps, and found herself in the musk-scented room with the one-way glass.

"Malcolm Watts, I hear you're Malibu's vampire." Lisbon heard Martin say that.

Lisbon watched as Malcolm Watts' mouth broke out into a smile, and from where she stood, she could barely make out two fangs on his canines. Her eyes widened at the thought of how extreme some people get around Halloween.

Watts nodded. "Yes, that is me."

Martin narrowed his eyes and folded his hands together on the table. He looked over at Simmons, made a gesture, and looked back at Watts. Simmons reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a glossy picture of the murder victim, Lauren Webb.

"Do you know this woman?"

Watts straightened his spine and looked down at the table at the picture. He drew his mouth into a thin line and shook his head.

"No, I have never seen that girl in my life."

Martin smiled and Lisbon was quite baffled. She had never seen Martin smile at a suspect in her time working at the CBI. "You see, Mr. Watts, that is where we have a problem. We have a witness that says you were with Lauren an hour prior to her time of death."

"Well, I say you have an incompetent witness," Watts challenged venomously.

Lisbon leaned against the cool one-way glass as the interrogation continued on. She was surprised that Jane was not in the observation room along with her, but then again, she made it perfectly clear earlier that she wanted nothing to do with him.

The interrogation continued on with very little results. It was blatantly obvious that Malcolm Watts was somehow involved in the murder, but they had no proof in order to make an arrest. So, Martin let him go and instructed him not to go anywhere.

* * *

><p>When Jane opened the door to his house, he immediately recognized the familiar messy head of blonde curls sitting on the couch watching, her backpack resting right next to her on the couch. She spun around and saw him enter the house, turned off the television and ran over to him.<p>

"Daddy!"

He picked her up under her arms and hoisted her up. Grunting a bit in the process, he settled her on his hip. Honestly, he could not remember Charlotte ever being this heavy. The days just flew by and the kid just kept on growing up faster and faster each day.

"Mommy's upstairs."

Charlotte pointed up, towards the second level. Jane smiled, told her thank you, and kissed her on the nose. She squealed in delight at the attention her father was giving her and he carefully began to set her down.

Bending down, he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "I will go check on mommy. Get ready, please," he told her.

She nodded and bounced over to the couch in an excited manner at the notion that her father would be the one taking her to school today. For a long time now she had wanted to show everyone her daddy.

Jane took one last look at his daughter before he started to head up the stairs. Once atop, he stopped by the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and an empty glass. He filled the glass with cool water and walked into his and Angela's bedroom.

The scent of a sick person was almost immediate as Jane took in the silhouette of her body curled up on the bed. He walked over to it, placed the glass and bottle on the nightstand, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Placing his hand on where he suspected the location of her shoulder was, he put down pressure and leaned over to press a kiss to the exposed hair.

"Ange?"

She shifted underneath the blankets, mumbling something incoherent. Without waiting for her to say anything, he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. Swearing quietly, he realized that she had quite the fever, though he doubted it was anything serious.

"Angela," he tried again, "Can you please turn around?"

More mumbling was heard from underneath the blankets as he shifted into some sort of standing position. He took her shoulder and gently turned her over until she was lying on her back. Charlotte was right, Angela was very pale and looked like she had been ill for a few hours.

Propping up a couple of pillows behind her, Jane saw her eyes begin to crack open slightly. When he saw this, he picked up the glass of water and held it up to her lips. He took the back of her head in his hand and gently tipped it back, letting the cool water go into her mouth and down her throat. His actions caused her to groan and squeeze her eyes shut, but he shushed her and pulled the glass away.

Opening the Tylenol, he stuck a capsule into her mouth and picked up the water once more, pouring it down for a second time. Once he was confident that she had swallowed the pill, he pulled away slightly to gauge her expression.

"P-patrick," she said weakly, "What are y-you d-doing here?"

He leaned closer to her. "Charlotte called me, said you were sick."

Angela squeezed her eyes shut and let out a moan. Looking down, Jane noticed that her hands were tight around the sheet. Her stomach was hurting her quite badly, it seemed. He shifted uncomfortably and smoothed her hair down a bit.

"Do you want me to call the doctor?"

Despite the fact that he hated doctors, Angela was a bit more accepting towards them. She became this way when she got pregnant with Charlotte, knowing it would be better if she talked to them as the weeks had gone on.

Angela shook her head no and started to weakly snuggle back under the covers. Jane tried to help her, but she brushed off his assistance offers. He felt as if she had slapped him in the face, but she had been a little tense around him for a while now, so it was not a new development.

"The Tylenol is on the bedside table," he said and kissed her warm cheek.

Standing up from the bed, he quietly left the room and made a mental note to come back in a couple of hours to check on her. He moved down the stairs and saw Charlotte sitting eagerly on the floor in front of the door, her backpack right next to her once more.

"Did you fix mommy?" she asked, her bright blue eyes twinkling.

He shook his head. "No, but I'm working very hard to," he told her and picked up her bag. "Are you ready?"

Charlotte nodded and held out her hand for him to hold. He grasped it in his much larger one and opened the door as the little girl happily chatted about her school.

* * *

><p>"Where's Jane? I've been calling him for the past thirty minutes!"<p>

Lisbon squeezed her eyes shut and popped an aspirin as Martin continued to ask everyone questions about Jane's whereabouts. When he had asked Simmons, the large agent had told Martin that she may know, due to the fact that they were always around the other. And the only reason why they were constantly around the other was because Jane was like an annoying mosquito that had zoned in on her.

She shook her head. "I don't know, sir. I haven't seen him since the morgue."

In his frustration, Martin threw his hands up in the air and walked away, mumbling about complaining to Minelli. Martin stopped by the door and shot over his shoulder for her to find Jane and bring him back to the make shift headquarters. Somehow, Lisbon knew she would be given the job for this and she vowed to make Jane's life hell for the remainder of this case.

Standing up from her seat, Lisbon sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was go on a full-fledged manhunt for Jane, so, she refused to do such. From his file, she had his street address. And like every house in Malibu, she was visualizing a beautiful home on the beach. Something bright and cheerful to compliment Jane's sunny personality and make her stare in sheer envy that she would never be able to afford something even close to it.

Lisbon walked over to a laptop and sat down behind it. Powering it up, she entered in her password and began to search for the file that contained Jane's personal information. It took a bit for her to find it, but once she did she was surprised to find it almost empty. There were only dates of birth, marriage, and when he joined the CBI. There were some details of his physical description, like height, hair and eye colour, and weight. Then she found his address.

Quickly writing it down on a piece of paper, Lisbon stood up and left the building. She got in one of the vehicles, the one with the navigator, and drove off in the direction of the Jane residence.

The closer she got to the Jane home, the more beautiful the scenes got around her. At this point, she knew she was jealous of the fraud. He was able to screw people over for a living and live in a place so beautiful that it should be illegal.

She made one last turn into a drive that was covered by neatly trimmed trees. Everything was green to the point where it was breathtaking. Leaning further into her seat and clutching the wheel tighter, she touched down on right pedal and drove on further. She went around one last curve and stopped the car. Putting it in park and killing the engine, she stepped out of the car to see Jane's sedan sitting in the driveway.

Obviously it was no crime to be home, but she knew Martin would throw a fit to learn that Jane had been home since the morgue. Which is why she'd tell him of this news once she got Jane to come with her to the makeshift CBI headquarters.

"Daddy!"

Lisbon's eyes snapped towards the door at the high-pitched sound of a little girl. She knew Jane had a daughter, but never thought of her to be truly real until now for some odd reason. Taking a step further out of the car, she shut the door behind her and moved until she stood in front of the vehicle.

Just as she had done this, a little girl with bouncing blonde curls came through the door, a large pink backpack about to swallow her up. She had a bright smile on her face, one that was clearly her father's. When she looked up from the little girl, she saw Jane step through the door, keys in one hand and a little brown paper bag in the other.

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and smirked at the sight. She was used to seeing the lecherous Patrick Jane, not the doting father. Though, she stopped smirking when she remembered that she had had dinner with him one night.

"Daddy, who's that?"

The little girl was pointing at her now, her bright blue eyes staring in alarm. Jane paused and looked up from his keys as he locked the door. Once his eyes landed on Lisbon, a large grin broke out across his features.

He leaned down closer to his daughter, his smile still in tact. "That, Charlotte, is Agent Lisbon."

Little Charlotte waved with much enthusiasm at Lisbon. She jumped off the last step and ran over to her, stopping short of about a foot. With a large smile akin to her father's Charlotte Jane held out her hand. "My name's Charlotte Anne Jane!"

Lisbon bent down a little and shook the little girl's hand. Giving her a warm smile and a slight hand squeeze, she replied. "My name's Teresa."

Charlotte quirked her eyebrow and looked over at her father. "Daddy, I thought you said her name was Agent Lisbon!"

Jane came up to his daughter and sighed. "Agent is her title, like mister and misses," he explained, "And Lisbon is her last name."

"Agent Teresa Lisbon?" Lisbon nodded at Charlotte's implied question. "Are you daddy's friend when he works with the police?" she asked at the sight of Lisbon's gun and badge with much curiosity.

Lisbon gulped a little bit and looked over at Jane. His smile had faltered some, but not much. She knew that she couldn't tell the little girl that she loathed her father at present, even though that was how she felt.

"Yes, I'm your daddy's friend at the police." She shot Jane a look, one that asked him to get Charlotte into the car so she could speak with him privately. He shrugged his shoulders, tapped Charlotte, and gestured for the little girl to go into the car. When she protested, he promised that he would tell her all about what they said and that he would buy her an ice cream on the way home from school. Accepting this, Charlotte went into the car.

"Where have you been, Jane?" Lisbon hissed.

Jane looked around dumbly and pointed at the house behind him. At this, Lisbon rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. His smile fading, he dropped his hand to his side and looked over at the car, seeing Charlotte pressed up against the window.

"She called me," he began, "To tell me that Angela, my wife, is sick."

Her anger fell apart a little bit. "Is she going to be okay?"

Jane nodded. "I'm sure, but I need to take Charlotte to get to school." He paused and looked over Lisbon's face, and she was quite thankful that his gaze did not drop below her jawline. "Did Martin send you?"

Reclosing her arms over her chest, Lisbon nodded without saying anything. She knew that was all he needed to know, especially when he smiled at her.

He leaned in closer to her and she pulled away. "Tell Martin that I will be in within the hour. I need to take her to school." He pulled away from her and walked over to his car. Getting in, he looked at the backseat, smiled, and told Charlotte something. The little girl grew instantly happy as he started the car.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Lisbon got back into her car, started it, and slowly made her way out of the beautiful drive. Still envious that he owns the home and not her, the fraud.

* * *

><p>Jane arrived at the makeshift headquarters about thirty minutes after he had last seen Lisbon. Just as he had walked in, he saw Simmons and Martin escorting a suspect towards an interrogation room. When Martin saw him, he made a gesture with his head to go behind the one-way glass to observe. With a simple raise of his hand, Jane confirmed that he would be able to do this without any problems.<p>

Opening the door, Jane saw with much amusement, that the suspect had a bloody nose. Well, a bloody nose was more so an understatement. He looked like someone had punched him between the nose and teeth.

Leaning on one side as he pressed against the glass, his gaze moved over Simmons' and Martin's knuckles, already knowing that he would have found them both void of any cuts or bruises. It could have been Flores, he thought for a second, but he then remembered that the man was in Sacramento with a few days off. So, that only left Lisbon, the pocket rocket.

Behind him, he heard the door open and close. "Did you put ice on that?" he asked without looking over his shoulder.

He heard the rustling of a plastic bag and an intake of breath. At this, he looked over his shoulder to see Lisbon walking closer to the one-way glass, a plastic bag full of melting ice placed over her knuckles.

"Working on it," she grunted. "The bastard went for my neck."

Nodding, Jane looked at the suspect more closely. Sure enough, as he spoke, Jane could see one 'fang' peaking out from his gums. "Vampire."

More rustling was heard beside him. "More like a vampire wannabe," she sighed.

He turned to her fully and glanced at her knuckles. They were swollen, red, and cut. He then looked up at her face, seeing her hide the pain well, and then looked back at her knuckles.

"You do pack a punch, you know," he told her, smiling to lighten up the mood.

Lisbon shook her head and smiled. It was a start, he decided. When he turned to look back out through the glass towards the suspect, he saw Lisbon turn her head to look at him. He thought about returning her gaze, but decided against it. He kept his gaze forward and deduced that the suspect was guilty. He really did not need any proof, other than the fact that this man was beyond creepy and fully capable of committing murder without blinking an eye. Though, they would have to find evidence of this first.

* * *

><p>Everyone worked on the case for the remainder of the day and into the early hours of the morning. Well, everyone sans Jane. He had left around three-thirty in the afternoon to go pick up his daughter from school, but not before telling an irked Martin that it would be highly unlikely that he would return later. Lisbon would be lying if she thought that exchange had been a boring sight to see, as she rather liked how Jane was able to stir up her superior.<p>

The next morning, Jane returned a little after nine in the morning. Once more, he had had to take Charlotte to school and tend to an ill Angela. Simmons was understanding with this, Martin was not. And Lisbon knew that it bothered Jane to some extent that their superior wasn't so understanding at the moment.

By noon, they had caught a break in the case. A witness, who had been at the scene during the murder, had accidentally taken a picture of the murderer with his new digital camera. Bryan Elkins, that was the name of the witness, was shocked to learn of this, but became very excited that he was able to help. Especially because he had heard of the victim, Lauren Webb, a couple of times before and found it horrible that she had been murdered.

After three hours of searching for Alex Buchannon, the murderer, they finally found him within his musky home. There was no electricity, nor was there any evidence of it, and was poorly maintained. Lisbon found this a waste of a home and was glad that they were able to finally wrap up the case.

For two hours, Buchannon had started at them with much menace. He hadn't said anything to them nor did he even move a muscle. Everyone tried to get a reaction from him and everyone was unsuccessful. Until, of course, Jane riled him up. It wasn't much, but Jane twisted things around, insulted him and his "coven" a couple of times and before they knew it, they were all rushing in to subdue Buchannon. That was enough of a confession for them all, and they all thanked Jane. Even Lisbon herself gave him a smile.

As they all left the makeshift CBI headquarters, all was well.

* * *

><p>"Daddy," Charlotte whined, "Come <em>on<em>!"

Jane smiled when she took his hand and began to tug on it with all her little might. All traces of not being able to go trick-or-treating with her mother had vanished once six in the evening appeared on the kitchen clock and after he had made the promise that he would take her.

He stepped out of the kitchen and looked down towards his daughter. She stood by the door, her small hands clutching onto an orange jack-o-lantern specifically for carrying all the goodies she would receive tonight.

"All right, all right," he said and picked up his keys from the small table. He opened the door and gestured for Charlotte to walk out first. "Ladies first, Milady."

Charlotte giggled as she skipped through the door and down the stairs. Jane smiled and watched as his little girl stopped short a few metres away from the stairs, anticipation keeping her from standing still.

When he locked the door, he stopped when he heard the sound of tires coming up the drive and stopping. He turned around to see a familiar brunette stepping out of the car, two boxes of pizzas in her hands.

"Lisbon?"

"Agent Lisbon!"

Lisbon smiled at the sight of seeing Charlotte dressed up as a little princess. Covered in pink from head to toe with sparkly pink shoes. She looked up from Charlotte and towards Jane, who was making his way down the stairs of his home.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

Lisbon gestured to the pizzas. "I got you guys pizza. Because your wife's sick."

Jane smiled and took a pizza box from her and started back to the house, despite Charlotte's protest. Over his shoulder, he told her he would be right back and that she is to stay put.

Letting her into his home, he led Lisbon to the kitchen. He set one box on the marble counter and she placed the other right beside. Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes avoiding his.

"How's your wife?" she asked.

He shrugged. "She's doing better than yesterday."

Lisbon did not say anything else; she just put her hands in her pockets, caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and started towards the door, mumbling a soft "goodbye" while she was at it.

"Uh, Lisbon." At the sound of her name, she stopped. "Would you like to go with Charlotte and I? Trick or treating, that is."

Looking over at him, Lisbon began to protest. Knowing that she would most likely decline without really thinking it through, he shushed her and informed her that she ought to go with them. Overall, it did not take much to convince her to go. Just that he was quite sure that Charlotte would love it if she were to go with them and eat the pizza when everything was done.

At the mention of Charlotte, Lisbon could not bring herself to decline. Especially when the little girl had entered the room, heard that Lisbon may be going with them, and begged for her to tag along.

By the end of the night, Jane felt like he had made a rather stupid decision to allow Lisbon to interact with Charlotte.

**I'll be completely honest. This chapter took forever to write, as I'm back at school and thus working once more. Meaning, my chances at writing have gone down some. I'll try to update on weekends now. Also, in general, it took close to two weeks to write this one. And it was rather stressful! **


	6. Chapter Five

**Sadly, I was unable to update this weekend (it's 1:36 AM, therefore not weekend!). Friday night and all of Saturday I was really busy. Today I did have quite a few things to do, but I also had a lot of distractions. This chapter is literally right off the presses and not my favourite at that! Thank you to all those who reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! **

**Leighanna - Thank you so much for taking the time to read all of them! I really appreciated it, cousin!**

**Jazz - Thank you so much for reading! Though, sadly, updates will probably only happen on weekends. (Or the mere hours of Monday mornings.)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist, sadly. **

Chapter Five

**November 7, 2002**

Angela's illness had left her body three days after Halloween. Though still, weak from it, she found no difficulty in yelling at her husband for allowing Lisbon to go out with _her_ daughter. Charlotte, of course, had rattled on and on about how much she just loved Agent Lisbon and wanted to see her again soon. As soon as that statement left her mouth, Jane knew he would not only get an earful from his wife that night, but also be spending the rest of the week on the couch.

Now, a full eight days later, Jane found himself yet again on the road back to Los Angeles. Martin called him the evening before to ask for his assistance. Originally, he declined Martin's request, but agreed when Angela walked into the room. He was tired of the tension and desired to get as far away as humanly possible.

From what Martin told him, the case was Red John related. And they were all hoping that it was a copycat. After all, there had been two so far. They have not seen an actual Red John murder in over a year. Something they were all quite glad about. Jane had, after all, received the most marks during the last two copycat murders.

Stopping at the curb, he put the car in park and cut the engine. Taking in a quick, deep breath he opened the door and started on his way towards the home that sat before him, surrounded by yellow tape. He flashed his identification to the police officer, waited a moment, and walked under the tape.

A well-rested Flores stood on the edge of the tape, talking to the local law enforcement. Jane gave him a slight nod before continuing on, taking a moment to contemplate Lisbon's whereabouts. His answer was found when she walked through the front door that belonged to the house, her face solemn.

"Jane," she said as she gave him a curt nod.

He drew his lips into a thin line and tipped his head towards her. "Red John?"

Lisbon nods again but doesn't look at him. She continues on towards the CBI vehicles that sit alongside the curb. Jane takes one glance over his shoulder in her direction before he continues through the door and towards the master bedroom. He stops at the doorway, his eyes immediately falling on the sight of a red smiley face.

A sense of dread came up Jane's spine as he continued to watch the red smiley as it stared back at him. Upon seeing the daunting smile, he felt as if the room had dropped ten degrees. And immediately at that point he knew that this was the real Red John and not the copycat that everyone wished.

"What's your take on this, Jane?" Martin asked as he came up to Jane.

Jane swallowed. "It's him. It's the real Red John."

* * *

><p>Leaning her head against the tinted car window, Lisbon took in a deep breath. This was her first ever Red John related case. In the media she had heard about the notorious serial killer, but she never thought that she would actually see that highly publicized smiley face in person.<p>

"You all right?"

Lisbon opened her eyes to see Flores standing across from her, a notepad and pen still in his hand from questioning the local law enforcement. Pure concern was evident in her eyes and Lisbon was quite grateful. Though, she still wouldn't tell him what that the crime scene actually fazed her.

"Yeah." She nodded at him. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Flores tipped his head to the side. "You sure?"

Lisbon nodded her head and crossed her arms over her chest, still trying to shake the thought of Red John from her thoughts. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Smiling, Flores placed a caring hand on her shoulder. "It's my first Red John case, too. The last two were just copycats. Well, at least I think this one is the real one. It just feels…like it." Then he left.

For some reason, Lisbon found his admission comforting, that she was not the first one seeing a Red John case. Or what they were thinking was a Red John case. Pushing her head back until it thudded against the window and closing her eyes, Lisbon took in a deep breath. She was trying to reign in every ounce of possible calmness.

"Teresa?"

At the sound of her name, her eyes snapped open. She did not need to look at the person who called her her name, as she knew it was Jane, but she looked at him nevertheless. There was something rather comforting with his presence, and she wanted to shoot herself in the foot for thinking that way.

"Are you all right?"

She had expected the question. "Yeah, Jane, I'm fine."

"Women always say that," he said as he made his way to stand beside her, against the vehicle. "And believe me, you are no different."

She looked over her shoulder at him and glared, not really thrilled with his comment. Her look didn't cause him to falter, much to her dismay. Instead he grinned back at her, but she could tell that his eyes were still curious. Curious about how she was feeling due to this being (obviously) her first Red John case.

"Is it really him?" she asked, as she looked forward again.

From beside her, he nodded. "Yes, it's Red John."

"No copycat?"

"No copycat," he replied.

His confirmation of her suspicions caused some sort of unease to travel up her spine. After quite some time, the notorious Californian serial killer was still active.

"Do you think we'll catch him this time?" She didn't like asking these types of questions, but she was genuinely curious. She wanted to say to herself that yes, they would capture Red John. But she knew that would prove to be false. And that this case would become joined with the old, dusted Red John case file.

Before he answered, Lisbon turned and looked at Jane. She wanted to look into his eyes as he was about to say his next statement. To be sure that he was telling her the truth, as she knew that liars always had a hard time doing so whilst looking into the eyes of their victim.

"No, he will not be caught this time."

His answer was honest and not even close to being opinionated. It was if he could see into the future, and in all honesty she didn't like that. If he had phrased it in a different manner, then she would have taken to his _opinion_ much better.

"You don't know that," she challenged, narrowing her eyes.

Jane glanced at her briefly in a rather haphazard manner before he continued on. "Yeah, I do."

Shaking her head and stepping away from the vehicle, Lisbon placed her hands on her hips. "No, Jane, you have no proof that we won't catch Red John."

"Martin told me they only found the body, a woman sliced to bits, and a bloody smiley face on the wall. No other evidence." Jane's eyes never left hers. "Even if the CBI searches for suspects as to who would possibly kill this woman, they will not find him. The CBI has been looking for four years, Teresa. And I suspect this year to be no different."

Anger started to bubble up within Lisbon's very being. She had to reign in every sort of control to prevent herself from doing him any physical harm out in the open. At a crime scene, no less.

She missed her opportunity to do him any harm when he pushed off from the CBI vehicle and headed back towards the house. Lisbon contemplated calling after him, but stopped herself and instead glared at the back of his head.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she closed her eyes and let the rest of the day completely wash over her. She allowed everything to blur over as she accepted the knowledge that Jane was right and that they weren't going to find any incriminating evidence against Red John.

A blur of a day it was. And a rather annoying one, too.

* * *

><p>Nightfall came too quickly for Jane's liking. He knew that Angela expected him home within the next couple of hours so that he could be home in time to give Charlotte her goodnight story. And for his baby girl's sake, he would make sure to be home on time.<p>

Turning a corner, Jane was surprised to see a familiar CBI vehicle parked outside a small motel. He was not surprised, though, as the CBI preferred dinky little motels to house their agents in rather than nice hotels.

Going on a guess, he smiled and he slowed down the car to pull into the parking lot. He parked beside the CBI vehicle and cut the engine. Opening the door and stepping out of the car, he carefully shut the door and made his way towards the motel. Ahead of him, he could see light seeping through the parted curtains.

Still acting on his guess, he stepped closer to the curtains and gazed briefly into them. Inside, he saw Simmons asleep on one bed and Flores watching television on the other. Taking a deep breath, and rather glad that his guess prove to be correct, he rapped his knuckles against the door.

Within a couple of seconds, the door opened to reveal Flores. The man was dressed in plaid pajama bottoms and a white shirt. He also smelled a bit like after shave.

"Jane!" he said, surprised.

Jane smiled, not even trying to look around Flores. "Flores, how are you?"

He really had not had a chance to ask him how he was since he took some time off. And throughout the day he really saw very little of Flores after the crime scene.

Flores nodded. "I'm doing all right. What brings you here?"

Shrugging, Jane gave him a fake smile. "I was on my way home and saw your car." He gestured behind him at the dark Suburban parked beside his own car. "And decided to see if anyone was here."

Looking over his shoulder, Flores furrowed his brow. "A lot of people drive Chevy Suburbans, Jane."

"Meh."

Giving a slight chuckle, Flores looked over Jane's shoulder and then back at Jane. "Lisbon's room is the next one on your left."

Jane looked over at Flores, his eyebrow furrowed in mock curiosity. "Who says I'm looking for Lisbon?"

"You're always looking for Lisbon."

"Goodnight, Flores."

Chuckling softly, Flores began closing the door. "Goodnight, Jane."

Once the door was closed, Jane turned and looked down the hall to his left. Inside his chest, he felt his heart start to beat erratically. Why did he suddenly feel like a young man again, trying to muster up all the courage to ask Sarah Accord if she wanted to go on the Ferris Wheel with him?

Rubbing his palms together and shaking away all rational thought, Jane walked over to her room, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. It did not take long for him to hear the door become unlocked and wrenched open.

"Hi, Jane, what do you want?"

He was surprised by what Lisbon said, but quite grateful that she did not start trying to immediately kill him. "I was in the neighbourhood," he said simply.

Nodding, Lisbon looked over her shoulder in the room and back at him, her lip now being gnawed on between her teeth. She was nervous, for some odd reason. Jane took a small step back to look at her appearance, and almost smiled when he saw her in an oversized T-shirt. So large that it looked like it consumed her.

"I heard you talking to Flores," she started. "And he's right, you do seem to always be looking for me."

Jane smiled. "Don't flatter yourself, Teresa."

"Oh, I'm not! I just know that what Flores said is true. That wherever I go, you seem to follow. Why?"

Leaning in closer, Jane could smell a soft scent of cinnamon and vanilla. His eyes nearly slipped shut, but he forced them to stay open upon seeing Lisbon's green eyes gazing back at him.

"Because you are an engaging woman, Teresa."

She crossed her arms in a protective manner over her body. "And because you deserve to have a man's attention."

"Even a married one's?" she countered.

Jane shrugged. "Someone has to."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "No, someone doesn't have to."

He leaned in even closer to her. "Yes, Teresa, someone has to."

"Well, I'll just wait on them."

Jane merely shook his head to refute what she was trying to tell him. He did not agree with her selling herself short and saying that she would just wait one someone else. No, not when he was trying so hard.

Before him, Lisbon shifted her stance and started to reach for the edge of the door to pull closed. Jane took another step forward, to insure that his foot was in the doorway, and he leaned in closer to her.

"Jane…"

He braced his hand on the doorframe and leaned in until his nose brushed up against hers. At this contact, he heard her breath catch in her throat and felt her stiffen before him. He leaned even further and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before he pulled back to gauge her reaction to his close proximity.

Jane watched as Lisbon's eyes drifted shut, and he felt dread creep into his being. She did not like how far he had went, and he felt somewhat guilty.

Mumbling a soft apology, he started to turn away from her. Just as he had gotten a few centimetres away from her, he felt her small hand wrap around his elbow and turn him back to her. He paused to look into her eyes, surprised to see a look of curiosity visible on her features.

Softly, she moved forward, her hand reaching up to brush down the side of his cheek. "How do you do it?" she asked. "Con people."

Jane stiffened, not expecting her to ask such question. But she knew what he was, and he decided that he ought not to lie about it. She was not actually asking him how, but more so why. "I do it to survive."

"Why not something else?"

She started to move closer to him after her question until he felt her breath brush against his skin. From where she stood, he could feel the alluring warmth radiating from her skin.

Taking her hand carefully in his, he looked into her eyes. "Because I am unable to do anything else."

She shook her head. "No," she said.

Smiling weakly at her, he squeezed her hand and was about to let go when she tightened her grip. Pausing his movements, he looked down at their joined hands and back up at her. Lisbon smiled back at him, this time she appeared more haggard than she had in a long time.

He did not know what it was. It was either her tired smile, the complexity of the Red John case still swirling in his overactive mind, his desire for her, or his desire to just drift away from Angela. But he did not know what fueled him to bend down and capture her lips in his.

It was a brief, closed-mouth kiss. It didn't last very long nor did it go beyond that. It was very chaste and simple. And yet, it felt as if everything had stopped. It was like those corny romance novels that his clients sometimes spoke about.

When he pulled away from her, he was speechless. As was she. Her chest was heaving up and down, and he could tell that she was nervous.

"Goodnight, Teresa," he said.

Lisbon nodded. "Goodnight."

**Yes, I made them kiss (albeit quickly). I felt that it needed to happen at this point to not only get things rolling, but to also add some more complexities on Jane and Lisbon's relationship...even though it's rather messy. Mostly because Red John coming in made it so, despite Jane not having that personal connection to him. **


	7. Chapter Six

**I got addicted to Tumblr. Don't go on Tumblr if you want to remain part of the functioning world. **

**For updating purposes, I think I should say that I'll update during the mere hours of Monday mornings. Because I apparently can't do weekends. But in my defense, it's still Sunday in California at the moment! ;) I would like to thank everyone who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited. **

**KB4RC - Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and enjoying! I am well aware of the six hour drive from Sacramento to Malibu (and get annoyed when it isn't that way in the show! They must have some fast vehicles!). I have Jane fly to Sacramento in this chapter! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. Bruno Heller does. **

Chapter Six

**November 11, 2002**

Stepping out of the steamy shower, Lisbon reached for and wrapped a thin towel around her body. Taking a couple of steps on the slippery tile floor, she rubbed the fog coating off the mirror and took in her reflection. Bags and dark circles lay underneath her eyes as if wanting to tell the world about her lack of sleep the last few days.

She blamed Patrick Jane, of course.

Ever since he kissed her a few nights ago, Lisbon couldn't help but think of it again and again. And sometimes she caught her mind working on elaborate and extremely inappropriate scenarios that had everything to do with Jane. She wanted to shoot him. Multiple times.

Groaning and running her fingers through her wet hair, she started back towards her bedroom to change into her work clothes. Any minute now she was expecting a call from Martin (or possibly even Simmons) to tell her that they had a case. For some odd reason it always happened either in the middle of the night, when she was in the shower, or just as she was exiting the shower. It seemed that the bastards just kept on killing each other and never rested for a second.

As she was pulling on a pair of blue jeans, that's when she heard the shrill cry of her cordless phone in the kitchen. Wrestling her pants over her hips, she ran as fast as she could into the kitchen, nearly tripping over the laundry pile that had accumulated over the last couple of weeks.

Just when her hand wrapped around the phone to take it from its cradle, the ringing stopped and her answering machine started up. Groaning in complete utter frustration at technology, Lisbon finished fastening her pants and slowly trudged back to her room as she listened.

"_You've reached Teresa Lisbon. I can't come to the phone right now, so please leave a message. Thanks."_

**Beep.**

"_Lisbon, we have a case. Please report to the Tower Bridge now."_

Sighing and pinching the bridge of her nose, Lisbon continued on her way to her bedroom to finish getting dressed. Once done, she quickly tied her hair back with an elastic, grabbed her gun and badge, and grabbed her boots. She left her apartment in promptly and started off towards the Tower Bridge.

This was going to be one hell of a day. She could feel it in her bones.

* * *

><p>It was a little after noon when Jane walked into the bullpen. He was tired, kind of cranky, and wanting to solve this case as soon as possible. Mostly because he just did not feel up to par with working on a case at the moment. He did, however, feel like drinking a hot cup of tea and taking a nice nap. Preferably in that order too, as both would hopefully get his mind off Lisbon for just a mere moment. Even though, in all actuality, he did not wish to stop thinking about her.<p>

Smiling to himself, he continued on towards his destination. Recalling what Lisbon's lips felt like beneath his when they kissed a few days earlier. He remembered their feel - silky - and wished for nothing more than to experience it once more. Though, he would like to experience another kiss with her that would last much longer and that would involve a lot more bodily contact.

Simply shrugging his shoulders, Jane started back to thinking about tea and naps. Both sounded lovely, especially if his dreams would be visited by a specific brunette.

"Jane! There you are!"

Well, the tea and nap would surely have to come later.

Simmons was coming up to him from the other side of the bullpen. Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane gave him a slight nod and tried to make his way over to the empty desk that, metaphorically speaking, had his name on it.

"Good afternoon, Simmons."

"Where've you been?"

Jane paused for a second over the desk and turned on his heel over to look at the larger agent. Studying Simmons for a second, Jane came to the staggering conclusion that something had happened while he was on his way to Sacramento. Something…negative.

"What happened?"

"Flores is dead. Lisbon's critical." Jane's gaze immediately snapped to Simmons' eyes, his heart stopping for a second.

Jane shifted his footing and tried to remain calm. "What happened?" he asked.

"The murderer turned out to be one of our initial suspects." Simmons took a deep breath. "He said he wouldn't go to prison."

"Simmons!"

Nodding, Simmons continued. "He decided he wanted to kill himself rather than go to prison! And that he 'ought to leave this world with a bang.' He had a bomb strapped to his chest!" Pausing, Simmons exhaled deeply. "When she and Flores saw it, Lisbon tried to get the bystanders away and Flores tried to talk him out of it."

When those words left Simmons' lips, Jane started walking in the direction of the elevators. Simmons started following him, his words not stopping. "Flores died immediately." His breath hitched in his throat. "Lisbon got blown several feet away."

Nodding quickly, Jane pressed the button down on the elevator for it to go down. When it did not arrive quick enough, Jane hit the button several more times. As he stepped into the elevator, he felt his stress levels begin to rise rapidly. The whole ride down to the first floor rendered him completely exhausted and he was dreading the ride to the hospital.

He vaguely remembers Simmons telling him that he would drive. All he can remember is how long the drive is from the CBI Headquarters to the hospital. And the thundering beat of his heart inside his chest.

* * *

><p>When Jane had purchased his plane ticket earlier that day, he bought a round-trip one. He was to leave Sacramento for Malibu in mid-afternoon the next day. Now, as he sat in the white waiting room of a hospital, he came to the obvious conclusion that he would have to call Angela within the next two or three hours to break the news to her. That there was no way in hell that he was going home.<p>

He knew she would understand to an extent that an agent had been killed and that he wanted to stay around (money-making opportunities). But he knew she would not like it if she knew that Lisbon was down and that that was his main reason to stay behind.

Even after five hours of sitting on the uncomfortable wooden bench in the white waiting room of the hospital, he knew with every bone in his body that he would refuse to leave until Lisbon was awake and doing much better than she was. From what he heard, extensive damage was down to her body due to shrapnel. Mostly her back. From what he heard, shrapnel was what usually killed people in bombings.

From his seat on the little bench, he watched as Anita Flores walked into the room, two small children wrapped around her legs demanding to see their father. She was near-hysterical and Jane knew that he had to help ease her pain.

"Mrs. Flores?" he called from his seat.

Her mascara was running down her cheeks as she turned to look at him. There was so much pain evident in her eyes that Jane felt guilt creep up his spine for a moment. "My name's Patrick Jane."

At the sound of his name, Anita Flores' eyes widened and she nearly fell back. She had, apparently, heard of him. And she also apparently believed him to be a psychic.

"Mr. Jane!" she exclaimed. "C-can you tell me something? Anything?"

When he nodded, she looked down at her two little boys and told them something in Spanish. She probably said something along the lines of "stay here" when both boys nodded and moved over to take a look into the fish tank.

Shakily, she sat down beside Jane on the bench. Before she could protectively pull her hands into her lap, Jane took one of her hands into his and gave her a light squeeze. Giving her a small smile, he began.

"He died saving bravely, Anita."

Anita nodded and he continued. "When he was trying to stop the murderer, all he could think of was you. And the kids."

At the mention of her two boys, Anita looked over her shoulder at her sons as they excitedly pointed to one large fish. "And now." He took a shaky breath. "He wants me to tell you that he loves you. He loves you all and wishes for you not to grieve over him."

Anita's hand grasped onto Jane's tighter, as if this would give her a closer connection to her deceased husband. "Juan wants you to know that he will always love you, Anita."

Watching Anita completely fall apart before him, Jane slowly pulled back from her. Looking away from her crying form, he asked one of the nearby nurses for a box of tissues, knowing that Anita would need them.

The two boys, now seeing their mother crying, began to as well. Knowing that was all they could do in the midst of the confusion. And Jane sat there in a world of pain and suffering.

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall and kept his hands firmly on his thighs. He waited, for a minimum of twenty minutes, before it all stopped. Anita eventually gathered her two boys and left the hospital. Once they were gone, the hospital returned to its normally noisy state.

And Jane felt the remainder of his energy quickly fade away.

* * *

><p>It was eight o'clock in the evening when Jane awakened to Minelli calling his name. As he readjusted himself, he looked around the room to see Martin and Simmons standing beside him. The three of them looked extremely haggard.<p>

"They're letting visitors in now, Jane," Minelli said to him.

Nodding (and wincing at the movement), Jane stood up. Giving them all a false smile, he started to walk past them when Minelli called out to him once more.

"She's in a coma." Those words alone made Jane pause.

Turning back to look at the three men, Jane began to ask the question, but stopped when it was answered. "If she were awake now, she would be in excruciating pain. The doctors thought it best to keep her in a coma for the next few days."

Taking in the information, Jane rubbed his chin pensively. "So, her coma is medically induced?" Minelli nodded. "When will they bring her out of it?"

Martin stepped forward a little bit, as if he were trying to take on a little more control. "They think about three to four days. Give or take."

Nodding, Jane started back towards the hospital room he had known since the beginning to be holding Lisbon. He thought about calling Angela before he walked in, but decided against it. Instead he paused for a second, smiled, and thanked the three men before his hand touched the handle and pushed down.

Swinging it open, Jane took a step in. A couple of feet in and around the small corner was all it took before he saw Lisbon's small body wrapped in white sheets. It made him happy to see that she was breathing on her own.

He pulled a chair up to the bed and sat himself down in it. When he was somewhat level with her, his gaze roamed the entire length of her for any visible injuries. He saw two cuts on her face: one on her cheek and another along her hairline. Both had bruises forming around them. Then his gaze fell down to where her neck and showers met; there he saw one abrasion that looked like she had slid along the concrete road as she fell. He then looked down the length of her arms, happy to see only a couple of cuts where shrapnel had appeared to have entered her body. Her hands, though, were bandaged. He assumed that, much like the abrasion earlier, she had fallen to the concrete and badly scratched her hands.

Just by an initial sighting, Jane would say that Lisbon did not require a hospital. He would have said that if he had not known that she was not facing the bomber head-on like Flores had been. That is why the damage done to her front was minimal.

Sighing, Jane fished his cell phone out of his jacket and flipped it open. He dialed a familiar number and held the phone to his ear. Angela picked up the phone after two rings and Jane told her of the day's events. When he got to the part where he had to tell her that Lisbon was in the hospital, he could not help but watch the petite woman's still frame the entire time. And the entire time he watched her, he felt his heart constrict in an unfamiliar fashion.

**I apologize for the short(er) chapter! I will try to update sometime during the week and then again during the weekend. But please don't hold me to it! **


	8. Chapter Seven

**Wow! This sure has been a week for me! Rainy, hot, cold, and busy! **

**Thank you to all those who took the time to read, review, subscribe, and the couple that favourited. You guys are wonderful! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist.**

Chapter Seven

**November 14, 2002**

Today was the day.

Jane knew that after three days, Lisbon would be completely weaned off of the drugs that have been keeping her asleep. The very notion that he would be seeing her awaken raised his (and everyone else's) spirits. And by the massive forest of flowers, balloons, plush toys, and cards, he would say that a lot of people wanted to see her awake.

"Excuse me for just a second," Simmons said as he left the room.

Smiling, Jane tipped his head and waved a little bit. He knew that the older man would no doubt be on his way to the little donut shop not too far from the hospital. Simmons, sadly, fit almost every single stereotypical police role that he had seen in the movies.

Martin had left about thirty minutes ago after he had dropped in with a small card and a Tupperware container of cookies, courtesy of his wife. After his departure, Simmons said he would stay with her until she awakened and made a promise not to go out for food. After about ten minutes, his stomach had begun to growl, and Jane knew that the slightly larger man had been at war with his stubborn stomach for the remainder of his time in Lisbon's hospital room. So, as any decent man would do, Jane told him to go grab something to eat while he kept vigil over the sleeping rookie.

Once Simmons was gone, Jane leaned back into the chair and sighed. It was finally silent, despite the machines monitoring Lisbon's heart rate beeping occasionally. Lifting up his wrist and glancing at his watch, Jane started to worry as to whether or not Lisbon would wake up any time soon. Sure, he had nothing better to do as the CBI's Serious Crimes Unit wasn't taking any cases, but he would rather be here in the hospital with Lisbon than in the field consulting. He expressed this to Minelli the day after the incident.

Every day he conversed with Angela for a total of five minutes on the phone and ten with Charlotte. Both were not happy that he was not home, but both had very different reasons. To Charlotte, Agent Lisbon was hurt very badly and her daddy needed to take care of her. And for Angela, her husband was getting involved with another woman.

Leaning further into the chair until he felt like he was going to be consumed by it, Jane started to close his eyes and roll his neck from side to side. Damn, these hospital chairs were very uncomfortable. A visitor either got one too hard or too soft. It was never just right.

"F-Fl-Flores." Jane stilled his movements and slowly began to open his eyes.

"Lisbon?" He moved forward towards the woman lying on the bed, concern evident in his voice. When she did not respond, he tried again. "Teresa?"

He watched as her eyes began to open. He watched as evidence of pain began to creep across her facial features, and because of that he reached over and pressed the button for the nurse.

"Teresa? Can you hear me?"

Lisbon's eyes opened a little more. "J-Jane?"

Her voice had been nothing more than a slight moan. And because of that, Jane knew that Lisbon was in some sort of pain. Without thinking, he took her smaller hand into his and gave her a small squeeze. He watched as her eyes flickered to his face for a moment and then at her hand in his. She looked puzzled, but did not try to get away from him.

Jane was about to say something when a nurse walked into the room, her pale blue scrubs almost blending into the wall behind her. When she saw Lisbon awake, her eyes opened large and she rushed to her side, calling over her shoulder for another nurse to page the doctor.

"How long has she been responsive?" the nurse asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Jane felt Lisbon's hand squeeze his more tightly. "About a minute or two." Honestly, he had not been keeping track of her being awake, but he knew that it was not for long.

The nurse gestured for Jane to take a few steps back. Reluctantly he did what he was told as the nurse examined Lisbon. Within the next few minutes, the doctor arrived. She flashed the penlight in Lisbon's eyes, asked her a few questions, and examined her herself. Jane knew he had blanched at the sight of Lisbon's wounds once they propped her up a bit. And because of that, he decided to respect Lisbon's privacy and left the room.

* * *

><p>When Lisbon had first awakened, she noticed the pain. Even though she knew she was in a hospital, she could still feel the impact of the shrapnel as it hit her body. And she could still remember the scared gaze of Flores as he was blown to bits.<p>

It was weird, though, waking up to someone at her bedside. She had been in the hospital on more than one occasion and not once had she ever woken up to someone keeping vigil over her. The notion that someone would do that for her made her heart constrict a bit, but then again, this was Jane. He probably had some sort of ulterior motive to staying at her bedside for, what the nurses and doctor told her, three days.

Yes, that had to be it.

Though, this was not the first time she had awakened to a Hallmark Store. She had been shot once before, in a car accident (pursuit gone wrong), and had to get her tonsils removed. There were other instances, but those were the big ones where she woke up to the aforementioned Hallmark Store.

Now she lay in bed, her hand holding onto the television remote as she aimlessly flipped through the channels. Only an arm reach away was a cup of water and an uneaten mystery meat sandwich. Some part of her wished that Simmons would walk in with a box of donuts (and be willing to share) and keep her busy. Or perhaps Flores, who'd walk into the door exclaiming "Surprise! I'm alive!" But she knew that was a long shot. That Flores was indeed dead due to the bomb.

Raising a shaky hand towards the television and pressing the power button, she sighed. Maybe she ought to try and get some sleep. And maybe when she wakes up, all will be well again.

Carefully rolling over on her shoulder, the one without the IV's, she let her eyes slip shut and grow heavy. Taking a deep breath, she focused in on the machines and tried to let them pull her into sleep. But in reality, they were doing the exact opposite.

After what seemed to be ten minutes, or ten hours, she finally felt her eyes grow heavy. Relaxing into the bed, she allowed herself to fall asleep. But, as somewhat predicted, it was short lived. She heard the sound of her door opening and closing, footsteps following soon after. She wasn't surprised, as the nurses frequently liked to check up on her to make sure she was all right. It got annoying real fast.

"Teresa?"

Not a nurse.

Patrick Jane. Of course.

Keeping her eyes closed, she tried to pretend that she was still asleep. "Teresa, I know you're awake." She still didn't respond to him. She didn't want to enable him at all.

She felt him sit down across from her and then the rustle of fabric. He was moving in his seat. Making sure to keep herself still and "asleep," she made sure not to move once he pressed the apple of her cheek with his index finger. And because he was Patrick Jane, she was pretty sure he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

When she felt him bringing his finger towards her again, that's when she decided that she ought to speak up. "Don't touch me, Jane."

Listening to her request, he kept his index finger from her face. "I knew you were awake." She could hear the smile in his tone, and that is why she opened her eyes and glared up at him.

"No you didn't," she mumbled into the almost-flat pillow.

"Yes I did."

Narrowing her eyes at him, she started to stiffly move into a more upright position. She was surprised to see a bit of guilt flash across Jane's face due to her pained movements. So, she decided to exaggerate it a bit with a groan.

"How did you know I was awake?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Easy. You were frowning."

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were."

Lisbon frowned at him, and at this Jane smiled. She started to draw her arms to cross over her chest, but refrained from doing so when pain began to flare up in her shoulders. Jane seemed to notice this and sobered up, his smile fading from his features and being replaced with concern.

"You had me worried, you know." The sincerity in his tone made her pause. Looking up at him until her gaze locked with his, he continued. "You may think of me as a fraud…"

She nodded. "You are a fraud, Jane."

Leaning back a bit, Jane continued once more. "You may think of me as a fraud, but the…" He paused, seeming to mull over what he was to say next. "Concern I feel for you is genuine, Teresa. And I don't want to see your hurt."

Her eyes flickered to the ceiling to stay away from his searching gaze. After his admission, that he felt concerned about her, she felt somewhat naked in his presence. She wanted him gone from her hospital room, in all honesty. She wanted him back home with his family and for him to cease his constant…attempts at trying to get closer to her.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Without saying another word to her, he patted the back of her hand, smiled at her, and got up to leave. He glanced back at her right before he went around the curve, but left nonetheless without any sort of complaint or fuss. And despite wanting him to leave only a few mere minutes ago, she felt lonely as soon as his presence disappeared with the click of the door.

* * *

><p>After leaving Lisbon's room, Jane walked in a direct line towards his rental car. Once in the parking garage, he walked past Simmons, who tried to stop and engage in conversation with him. Jane merely smiled and mumbled that he had some things to take care of. He also mentioned that he would be willing to meet up later to catch up. For a moment, Simmons had looked a little insulted, but let it slide as he reached back into his car to pull out a large bouquet of flowers, no doubt for Lisbon.<p>

Once Jane got to his car, he paused. He knew very little about Lisbon's personal life other than the fact that she appeared to have none. She moved to Sacramento over the summer from San Francisco, and by her Midwestern accent, Jane would place her childhood home to somewhere in that general area. Chicago, to be more precise. But there was something else about her that had him almost want to step away from her. Sometimes, Lisbon gave him the impression that she was hurt. And that the only reason why she moved to California was to get away from something and to start over with a new life where so little people knew of her.

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane made the executive decision to go to Lisbon's apartment. He didn't know her exact number or building, but he knew the complex set of buildings. Those little slightly run-down apartments just fewer than fifteen minutes from the CBI. Honestly, he wasn't surprised that Lisbon would live that close to her job.

He got into the car, started it, and drove off in the direction of Lisbon's complex. Within ten minutes, he found himself pulling into the parking lot. Almost immediately, he saw Lisbon's car parked off to the side. Either Martin or Minelli must have arranged for Lisbon's car to be taken back to her apartment. Possibly to make it look like she was home. Without much further ado, Jane pulled in beside her and stepped out.

Getting out of the car, Jane surveyed around at the buildings. Lisbon would park in the closest spot to her home. Though, if Martin or Minelli brought her car over, this could be the wrong location. So, putting his hands in his pocket, Jane started to walk around the lot until he found one building that seemed more away from the others. For some reason, he knew this to be the building.

Recalling that Lisbon had once said to someone in the office that it was rather difficult carrying groceries upstairs to her apartment, Jane climbed the stairs. Once he reached the top, he realized he could only go one way. To the left. Turning, he walked up and down the covered corridor in search for her home. He canceled the first one he passed due to the "Home Sweet Home" plaques and the "Welcome!" mat with cats all over it. He then wrote off the third and fourth, as he could see a light on inside the third and a small child peeking out of the fourth. So, that left the second door.

Smiling and waving to the small child peeking at him, Jane reached into his jacket and pulled out a paperclip that he had put in there some time ago. Taking the time to bend it a little bit, Jane jammed the paperclip into the door, jostled it, and opened it without much effort. Taking a step into Lisbon's apartment, Jane made the mental note to talk to her tenant about possibly getting better locks installed.

"This seems to be the place," he mumbled as he looked around and took a step into the apartment.

Closing the door behind him and locking it, Jane began his search of getting to know the inner Lisbon. First he went over to her refrigerator, opening it to find sour, chunky milk, bread, a nearly brown banana, and some coffee creamer. Scowling at Lisbon's lack of epicurean tastes, Jane closed it and walked over towards her couch. One could tell a lot about a person depending on their choice of couches.

Jane plopped himself down and snuggled into the flat pillows for a moment. Within seconds, he felt something made of hard plastic digging into his behind. Taking a mental inventory of what it could possibly be, Jane's mind landed on one possible outcome: a gun.

Quickly, he jumped up, looked behind at the pillows, and walked towards where he assumed Lisbon's bedroom would be. He found it, at the end of a small hallway. The door was closed. Jane felt slight unease at the thought of going into Lisbon's bedroom, as she had it closed off. It was like she was there in the apartment telling him that her personal life (and bedroom) was off limits.

Wrapping his hand around the knob, he twisted and pushed it open. Inside was just an ordinary, plain room with an unmade bed. Behind the door was dirty laundry piled up on the floor, already beginning to smell. Jane made a mental note to take that stuff to a nearby Laundromat for Lisbon.

Wait, what was he planning on doing? He never planned on anything more than seducing her! Why was he thinking about doing her laundry? Making sure she was all right?

Shaking his head, he started to leave the room when his eyes caught onto something. There was a picture on the ground beside her bed, and the only personal item around other than the dirty laundry. Looking around as if he felt someone watching him, Jane crept towards the small frame and bent over to pick it up. Turning it over in his hands so that it was right side up, Jane ran his hand over the frame.

The picture was of a woman, similar to Lisbon. Her hair was lighter and had a few elaborate shades of red in it. Her eyes were similar to Lisbon's in colour and size. Her face, almost the exact same as Lisbon's, except her face was more of a heart shape. Running his fingertips down the side of the glass, his eyes caught sight of the cross around her neck. This was the same cross that Lisbon wore around her neck, too.

Furrowing his brow, Jane sat down on the bed and held onto the frame. The picture was rather old, that much he could tell. Maybe from the eighties, give or take. The woman, whom he now presumed to be Lisbon's mother, wore the cross that Lisbon currently did. Not once since he had first met her did Jane ever see Teresa Lisbon without that damn cross around her neck.

Then he realized that the most likely scenario as to why Lisbon would wear her mother's cross necklace hit him. He came to the sudden realization that Lisbon's mother was most likely dead. And had been for a while.

Jane set the picture down beside him on the bed and breathed out, suddenly feeling guilty for his break in and his lecherous interest in Lisbon. She didn't deserve to be treated as if she were for a one-time fling.

He really was a bastard.

A "comrade" dies protecting civillians and another seriously injured. In the midst of all the pain and confusion, he breaks into the seriously injured's apartment and goes through her things to find out manipulative ways to get her into his bed. Yes, he still wanted her more than _anything_, but he decided he would have to use a different tactic. A more elaborate, respectful, and most likely long tactic.

Yes, he was a bastard. And he knew it.

**This chapter is literally "off the presses" as some people say. I read through it twice, so there may be a couple of mistakes here and there. If you spot any, I'm sorry!**

**Also, a word of advice. If you have not discovered tumblr yet, STAY AWAY! I'm addicted and have been making GIFS way too much for a sane person!**


	9. Chapter Eight

**Phew! What a week this has been! Surely some of you will agree, no? Busy, ill, busy some more...you get the picture. Also, has been wishy-washy lately (Grr!). **

**Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! :)**

**Kuhlama - Thank you so much! :3**

**Disclaimer: I do not know, nor will I ever, own The Mentalist. **

Chapter Eight

**November 27, 2002**

Zipping up his small, travel size suitcase, Jane turned to his wife and daughter. They stood only a few steps away from him, both knowing full well that he had to leave that day and return to Sacramento. Smiling down at his daughter and then looking up into Angela's eyes, he nearly faltered. His wife, the woman he had promised to love and cherish every day, looked worried and upset.

At his glance, Angela leaned down and whispered something in Charlotte's ear. The little girl smiled and nodded before she skipped from the room. After her exit, Angela stood straight and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I don't like that you're going back to Sacramento, Patrick."

Jane sighed. "Ange, I'm going back for Flores' funeral. Nothing more."

His wife merely narrowed her eyes at his response. "And to see Lisbon, I presume," she added. "That's why you stayed in Sacramento for so long."

"I was worried about her."

Tossing her head back and scoffing, Angela just shook her head. "Really, Patrick? You expect me to believe that? Since when do you worry about the police officers that you work with?"

His eyes locked with hers and narrowed. "Or is it because you're sleeping with her?" Angela continued, her eyes narrowing in a dangerous manner.

Jane looked down for a brief second, feeling a surge of frustration begin to course through his being. "No."

"Then look me in the eye and _tell me_ that you aren't sleeping with her!"

When Angela's voice rose in volume, Jane looked up at her once more. Taking in a deep breath to clear his mind, he carefully released it from his nostrils. "No. I'm not sleeping with Teresa Lisbon. Not now, not ever."

His wife continued to take a defensive stance, but that is when Jane reached down and picked up his suitcase. Clutching onto the handle, he walked over until he stood beside Angela, facing the other direction from her. Without saying anything, he kissed her on the cheek, ignored her body stiffening, and walked out of the room. Once outside, he glanced over his shoulder and watched as his wife's shoulders slumped down in defeat.

Continuing on, he left walked down the staircase and stopped once more when he saw Charlotte standing by the door, a bunch of stuffed toys held tight in her little arms. His little girl's cheeks were bright red and tears were in the process of running down her them.

"Charlotte?"

"D-daddy." Her voice sounded so sad, so broken. "Are y-y-you and mommy going to get a d-d-divorce?"

Closing his eyes and pinching the space between his eyes, Jane mentally cursed himself for not thinking once that Charlotte may ask this question one day. No doubt at her school she heard about the whole concept of divorce when other children's parents separated due to constant bickering.

Reopening his eyes, he smiled and knelt down before Charlotte. Letting go of his little suitcase, he grasped onto her shoulders and gave them an affectionate squeeze. "No, Charlotte, your mommy and I aren't going to get a divorce."

"Promise?" She sniffed and held out her pinky finger.

He hooked his own pinky around her much smaller one. "I promise."

* * *

><p>Pulling on the black dress proved to be a long and painful task for the injured. After several rounds of expletives, Lisbon was able to look at her reflection in the mirror. The dress was rather free-flowing, making it easier for Lisbon to comfortably move around due to her injuries. Pants, that weren't loose, were still too painful to wear at this point in time. And because this affair happened to be no place for loose pants, Lisbon decided on wearing a black dress that she hadn't pulled out of her closet since the last funeral she had to attend.<p>

Carefully breathing in and out, Lisbon ran a hand down the length of her side until it stopped at her hip. She looked all right, she guessed. She just wished that the cuts and bruises would fade more quickly than they have been since the bombing. The still-present injuries were not only a reminder to her, but also a reminder to Anita Flores how she survived the bombing and not her husband.

Moving away into the bathroom, she brushed out her hair and pinned it back. Satisfied with her appearance, she applied a light amount of make-up, mostly to hide the injuries, and then continued to search fro an acceptable pair of shoes to wear for the funeral. Finding a pair only a few minutes later, she slipped them on, examined herself in the mirror once more, and left her apartment.

She arrived inside the church just as the prelude ended. Due to her tardiness, she sat at the rear of the church alone, where she could barely see over the masses. Letting her eyes slip shut, she carefully ran her fingers along the side of the pamphlet. She listened to the priest recite the liturgy she knew so well.

"Amen." She finished alongside with the priest and the people.

Opening her eyes, she looked down and flipped the next page of the pamphlet and stared downward at nothing.

"_You new in town?"_

_Lisbon looked over her shoulder as she carried a box of personal items over to the unoccupied desk. A man, a bit older than her, was addressing her_. _"Uh, yeah. I just transferred here from San Francisco PD."_

_The man smiled and held out his hand. "Juan Flores."_

_She smiled in return. "Teresa Lisbon."_

Lisbon took a deep breath and tried to will herself not to think about the man the world had lost. Despite only knowing him for a short amount of time, Lisbon had found Juan Flores to be a decent friend to her. He and his wife, Anita, had invited her over for dinner on more than one occasion. Anita would always complain to her about how "thin she was" and that she "needed to put on more pounds." Which is why Anita always tried to feed her various desserts, even when she declined the offerings.

Smiling at the memory of the disgruntled Anita and the amused Juan Flores, Lisbon looked back down at the pamphlet. Anita would walk up and begin speaking about the life of her husband in a relative short amount of time, and Lisbon was not too sure if she could look at the woman in the eye. Not only had Flores become her friend, but his wife, Anita, had as well. And Lisbon didn't wish to see so much pain in Anita's bottomless brown eyes.

As she watched Anita walk up, her hands repeatedly switching which to hold onto, Lisbon closed her eyes once more. She knew this would happen, that looking Anita in the eye would be a near impossible task.

"_LISBON! GET DOWN!"_

_Eyes snapping to Flores in surprise, her eyes also locked onto the man coming at them with the bomb strapped to his chest. The man looked very deranged as he ran at them, his hands clutching at the ends of his shirt. It then clicked that he just so happened to be one of the prime suspects for the murder case. _

"_LISBON! GET OUT OF HERE!"_

_She watched as Flores tackled the suspect to the ground and continued to yell for her to get away. He then proceeded to yell at the innocent bystanders, for them to run and go for cover. Seeing the struggle to get the bystanders away and to help Flores, Lisbon started to run towards her comrade. _

"_NO!"_

_Everything grew hot, then black. _

A hand grasped onto hers and gave it a squeeze. Blinking, she looked down to see it intertwined with a man's hand. Following the arm, she paused when she saw Patrick Jane sitting there beside her, his eyes staring into hers.

He ran his thumb over the back of her hand once and turned back to watch Anita continue on with her speech. Lisbon watched him for a couple more seconds before she followed his gaze. She watched Anita during the last two minutes of the speech, and for those last couple of minutes, she felt her heart begin to constrict inside her chest. Taking a deep breath, she swallowed up any chance of crying, and breathed outward.

* * *

><p>After figuratively laying Flores to rest, Jane proceeded to the nearest teashop. He promptly ordered a strong herbal and continued to stare at nothing before him. Right before the tea arrived, her undid his tie from his neck and threw it down on the table. Once his tea arrived, the server merely looked down at the customer with curious interest, but continued onto serving the rest of her customers. And for the next two hours, Jane sipped at his lukewarm herbal tea.<p>

He had arrived late to Flores' funeral, due to a minor delay with the airlines. And luckily for him, in a sense, Lisbon had arrived late as well. Which is why he had found her situated at the back of the church rather than more up front in contrast to the rest of the team. And by her vacant expression, at that moment, he had realized that she was no doubt remembering her limited time spent with Flores prior to his untimely death.

Lukewarm tea didn't taste too good, Jane realized.

Setting the tea to the side, Jane gestured for the server, a different one now, to bring him the check. The server took one glance at his tea, as if silently questioning the quality. Jane just shrugged him off and started to reach into his jacket for his wallet.

He paid for the tea and left a tip for the current (and former) server and left the teashop. After the exit, Jane walked in aimless patterns up and down the streets. He crossed it and walked into a pub, ordered a shot of whiskey, and sat back to mull over his thoughts.

As he sipped at his whiskey, his mind wandered back to those weeks ago when he kissed Lisbon. What had compelled him to kiss her willy nilly, he did not know. All he knew was that he had been attracted to her (Well, he's attracted to a lot of women…) and it sort of just happened. Teresa Lisbon was an engaging woman that deserved to be cherished by any man, married or not.

_Sip_

First it had been just a kiss on the cheek! She was the one who grabbed his arm and turned him around to look back at her! Followed by her complete faith that he could do other things other than con people. That made her so…alluring to him.

_Sip_

If she had not said that beautiful word, "no," then he would probably not have kissed her and let that be. He probably would have tried to take it further if her raw admission had not been so powerful to him.

_Sip_

Why was Teresa Lisbon so difficult? Everything became jumbled when he thought about her. It was rare that a clothed woman could do that to him, and the fact that Teresa Lisbon could do it in a unisex pair of plaid pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt made Jane's mind even more muddled as it was.

Sighing, he set his drink down and fingered the rim of it. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip and looked up and gestured for the barkeep to come with the check. He had some unfinished business to attend to. He had to see Lisbon.

As the barkeep was gathering his tab, Jane picked up the glass and knocked his head back. Downing the remainder of the whiskey and paying the tab, he left the establishment and called for a taxi.

And once the taxi arrived, it did not take long before he stood before the door of Lisbon's apartment. He knocked thrice, his arm feeling heavy. Twenty-two seconds later, he heard the lock become undone and Lisbon open the door and pull it open. She stood before him in the very same dress he wore to the funeral, but barefoot and her hair void of any clips.

"Jane?"

"Uh, hi." He knew it had sounded lame, but he really didn't care.

She took a clumsy step backwards. "What are you doing here?"

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane took a step into her apartment. "I wanted to see if you were all right." At this, he looked over her shoulder and saw a bottle of tequila and a lone shot glass next to it on the coffee table. "And I don't think you are."

Lisbon blinked. "I'm fine, Jane." There was a slight slur to her voice that made him know otherwise.

"Right," he mumbled and took another step into the living area.

Lisbon's eyes moved towards the door, as if asking him to leave at once. Instead, he looked away from her and searched her home. Obviously, she still was oblivious to the fact that he had already been here once before.

"Why did you let me kiss you?" He had wanted to know that since his lips had made contact with hers those weeks ago. "If you are so adamant about me being _here_, then why the hell did you let that happen, Teresa?"

Anger flashed through Lisbon's eyes as she stood up straighter and clenched her hands into tight fists. "I didn't _let you_!"

He shook his head. "Yes, you did, Teresa, and I want to know why. You spend so much time trying to get away from me and suddenly you're letting me kiss you."

"I didn't –."

At her blatant lie, he scoffed. "We both know that's a lie, Teresa."

She narrowed her eyes. "And you know that it's a lie that you can't do anything other than con others, Patrick," she said in a defiant manner.

He paused and looked at her. What she had just said to him was so bold. So bold that not even Angela had tried saying that to him. In fact, Lisbon was the first person to ever tell him that he could do something other than con others.

"And how the hell do you know that?"

"I just do."

"You _just_ do?"

She nodded and he took a step towards her. "Why do you put so much faith in me? Faith that's false."

Her eyes flickered up to his. "Because…"

"Because what?"

Her eyes narrowed again. "Because I know you can do better."

At her admission, he took a step back. Once more, she surprised him. Not once has another person told him that he could do better, and that they knew. People only told him that they were happy, proud, or upset with him. Never that he could do better.

For a brief moment, Lisbon looked down and then back up at him, appearing shocked by her own admission as well. At that, she turned and started to walk away, mumbling something incoherent when he grabbed onto her wrist. At his contact, Lisbon stopped and turned to him.

Carefully, he tugged her closer to him so that she stood before him. He held her gaze for a short time before he lowered his mouth to hers, allowing it to slowly brush over hers. He was amazed when she responded to him, her mouth moving equally as slow as his. He opened his mouth to exhale and felt her tongue move in to slide alongside his. Moving closer, Jane took the back of his knuckles and allowed them to run down the side of her cheek, turning around so that his fingertips could ghost along the column of her throat. He then moved his hand so it cupped the back of her head and tilted it back to give him better access to her. Lisbon brought one hand up so that it rested on his chest until it lay directly over his heart.

They parted from each other for a brief moment before their lips met once more. This time, unlike the first, it wasn't delicate. This time, it was nothing but a raw passion that did not cease until they lay in bed together, in a tangle of nude limbs.

**They had it coming I had to make sure that not only this chapter contained Flores' funeral, but also the talk between Jane and Lisbon. Oh, and the sex, too. That needed to happen around this time as well. **


	10. Chapter Nine

**First off, I need to apologize for this taking much longer than usual. Especially because I gave essentially no warning of my absence. Here's my explanation: First holiday in ages. It was fairly rejuvenating, but the long flight really put the tension back in. Oh, well. **

**Second off, I would like to thank all of the people who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! It was very much appreciated and I thoroughly enjoyed reading and replying to each and every one of them. :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own, nor will I ever own, The Mentalist. It's on my birthday list, though. Nineteen's a big year, isn't it? Last year before one hits twenty. **

Chapter Nine

**December 16-17, 2002**

He stood before the awe-inspired crowd, a bright light illuminating the stage. Squinting his eyes and holding the mic close to his lips, he continued to pace about the stage, talking. When he took a dramatic pause, the crowd inched ever so closer to him to hear what he had to say next.

Turning his attention to another woman in the crowd, he evaluated her appearance. She appeared to be average in height and weight, her tanned skin pulled tight over face and her cheekbones jutting out. Her lips were small and her eyes large and hazel.

Jane changed the hand holding onto the mic and pointed to her. "You there, what is your name?"

At the words directed to her, the woman blinked. "Uh, Sherie Cutts!" From what he could tell, this Sherie Cutts was tingling with excitement.

Nodding, Jane continued on with his con. "Sherie, you lost someone close to you." He paused and looked her over. She did lose someone, but not because of death. "They did not die."

When he mentioned that, Sherie's hands crossed together in her lap. Jane had to put in a lot of effort to hide his smile. "They left, did they not?"

"Yes!" she said.

"A family member, too."

Sherie Cutts also had a ring on her finger, giving him the sense that she was indeed married. And she did not look like this was a recent abandonment.

"Yes!" she said once more, gasping this time. "My brother! My sweet, older brother left right before he would graduate high school…"

In all actuality, Jane didn't care about her brother. Or really anything she had to say about her little life. So, to feed her on, he smiled and gave her a message that her "brother" wanted to give to her. She drank up the con just as he had predicted she would.

When he was done, he gave his audience one final look before he waved and started to exit the stage. But just as he was about to take a step off the stage, he saw someone staring back at him, their arms crossed tightly over their chest.

Lisbon.

He hadn't seen her since they had slept together, even though he worked a case the week before. She was still on medical leave and refused to see him. And out of some lapse of momentary kindness (of a sort), he let her have her privacy.

Continuing down the stairs, he handed the mic off and started directly towards Lisbon. When her eyes locked with his, she looked down and away. As he was about to stop in front of her and begin speaking to her, Martin walked into his line of sight.

Mentally groaning at the interruption, Jane put on a fake smile. "Roderick, it is good to see you."

Martin crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "Jane, we have a case."

"Oh?"

"A child was abducted from a high-profile home. We were asked to come in on this one, mostly because of you." Martin turned and gestured for Jane to follow. "Let's go."

When Martin started to walk away with Lisbon following, Jane reached out and grabbed onto her wrist. This made her entire body freeze and slowly turn to look at him. In her eyes, he could see some sort of fire. And not the happy, passionate kind that he missed from that night.

"How are you?"

She narrowed her eyes at his question and pushed him away from her. He stumbled back a couple of steps, but regained his footing and looked at her. "I'm fine," she replied acidly.

Coming to terms that she probably wanted him to leave her alone, Jane nodded and briefly watched her go. After she advanced a few more steps, he followed her and Martin out, pausing to inform the studio that he was leaving.

* * *

><p>Heather Langston, the little girl, went missing forty-eight hours prior to December the sixteenth from Oakland, California. On the fourteenth, and only a couple of hours since the little girl had gone missing, her parents were constantly calling the CBI and asking for their assistance in finding the child. Minelli was the one who had told them several times that they could not act on anything at the moment, frustrating the parents only more and more.<p>

After overhearing a conversation with the girl's parents and with Minelli, Lisbon wanted to help. Yes, protocol said they could do nothing at the time, but she still wanted to shout at Minelli (and Martin) to screw protocol. And she was quite sure that the family, the one that used dollar bills to blow their noses, would be perfectly fine with her tongue.

So, that was why she had been secretly working on the case since she had originally heard about it. And so far, she hadn't gotten anywhere. She was mildly relieved when the CBI took over the case, as that meant she would be able to actually devote more time to finding the little girl.

"Lisbon, brief Jane over the case," Martin commanded.

Nodding and reaching over to pick up the clipboard, she flipped over the page and started to read. "The girl's name is Heather Langston, aged five. She went missing from an Oakland supermarket on Saturday, the fourteenth. Her parents, Bill and Stacy Langston, have been asking since the same Saturday for the CBI's assistance."

She added the last bit knowing that it would get to Martin that he had denied helping the family at first. And by the look he shot her from the rearview mirror, he understood what she had been implying. Though, she doubted he could find any evidence of that, but he _could _reprimand her for giving him "lip" as he called it.

"Simmons is with the Oakland PD, reviewing the security tapes from the super—." Martin stopped talking when his cell phone started to ring. Without much hesitation, he picked it up, flipped it open, and held it up to his ear. "Agent Martin. Simmons, what have you got?"

Lisbon rolled her eyes, knowing that if she answered her phone whilst driving, she would probably get a black mark on her file. Instead of saying anything, she fiddled with the pen in her hand and looked out the window, secretly listening in on the conversation. Simmons had a rather loud voice.

Jane peered around the front seat and smiled at her. She could see it out of the corner of her eye. And she also knew Jane could see that, so she kicked the back of his chair. Hard. Luckily for her, that was the time when Martin drove over a rather deep pothole. Meaning, it was disguised.

"Sorry," Martin mumbled to his passengers as he continued on with his conversation with Simmons.

"_They've got this really good interrogator, boss. It's scary how good he is. It's like he's ice."_

Lisbon smiled at Simmons and let her head hit against the headrest. Leave it to Simmons to get excited over a simple interrogator.

"What's his name?"

"_Kimball Cho."_

* * *

><p>Kimball Cho really was everything Simmons had said he was. He was a tough, no-nonsense interrogator. And that's what caught Martin's attention once he had met the Korean man. Though, still wary, Martin made the decision to speak with one of Cho's superiors once the case was over. In a way of sorts, this was like test-driving a vehicle.<p>

After Cho's interrogation of one Cooper Haans, they were on their way to the suspect's home. The suspect, Joe Lister, was a known sex offender that lived not too far from the Oakland supermarket. Meaning, it is very possible that Lister could have abducted Heather Langston.

Upon their arrival, Martin stopped the car at the curb and got out. With much ease, he approached the door of Joe Lister's dinky home with Jane and Lisbon in tow. Clearing his throat beforehand, he knocked against the wood and waited.

A man in his early forties opened the door. His hair, sparse and greying in some areas, stood out in contrast with his darker clothes. When he saw the law enforcement officers at his doorstep, he stiffened, but spoke without hesitation.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

Martin nodded and gestured for Lisbon to pull out her notepad and pen. Then he flashed his badge at the hip to Lister. "I'm Agent Martin and this is Agent Lisbon." He pointed to his rookie and stopped at Jane. "And this is Patrick Jane, our consultant. We're with the CBI."

Lister drew his lips into a thin line and nodded. "Hi. Nice to meet you, I think." The tension in the air rose as Lister drew his arms across his chest. "What do you want?"

Shifting his footing, Martin looked over at Lisbon once more to make sure she was writing everything down. "We're investigating the disappearance of Heather Langston from the Oakland supermarket just up the road."

Lister nodded. "Okay," he said in a wary tone.

"Where were you on the afternoon of December the fourteenth, Mr. Lister?" Martin asked.

Lister shrugged his shoulders. "I was visiting my wife. She's in the hospital."

"Do we have anyone to verify that?" Martin challenged.

Narrowing his eyes and dropping his arms from around his chest, Lister appeared to be very angry at Martin's assumptions. "Now what are you asking me, Agent?"

"Uh, he's asking you where you were two days ago because you're one of our top suspected abductors."

Everyone stopped and turned to look at Jane, who just shrugged. "Though, I don't think he should be one of our prime suspects any longer."

Lisbon stepped up. "Why? We don't know anything!"

At her question to the consultant, Lister turned and narrowed his eyes at her. Jane exchanged his glances from Lister to Lisbon. "Well, he used contractions. That's a sign that he was telling the truth."

"You don't know that."

Martin turned to look at the exchange between his consultant and agent. Lister flashed a look at Martin and returned his gaze two the squabbling pair.

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you don't."

"Your _argument_ is based on the fact that he used a _contraction_!" For effect, she waved the hand that held a pen towards Lister. "And that's based on nothing!"

Jane shook his head. "No. You're mistaken, Lisbon. He isn't lying when he says that his wife is in the hospital."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes I do!"

Lister crossed his arms over his chest again. "My wife is in the hospital, Agents." At his statement, Jane took a step back, smiled, and held his hand out. "And I do not appreciate this discussion in my presence!"

At his declaration, Lisbon whirled around. "Mr. Lister, I am so so—."

"No you're not," Jane said whilst smiling.

"JANE!"

"Please leave my home!" Lister said. "The CBI is no longer welcome here."

Jane turned to look at Lister and smiled. "On the behalf of the CBI, I apologize."

"Get off my property."

"No, really, I apologize. Agent Lisbon's just a little spiteful with me at the moment…"

Martin interrupted Jane this time as he started to walk away. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Lister. And I apologize for any sour feelings _they_ may have caused."

Lister grunted and Martin continued on. At the departure of her boss, Lisbon narrowed her eyes and started after him. Jane fell in step beside her, and every time he tried to capture her gaze, she would always look away from him.

Once they got into the car, Martin looked into the rearview mirror at Lisbon. "When this is all over, I need to talk to you."

Nodding, Lisbon buckled in and they were off.

* * *

><p>When the evening had come and gone, welcoming morning, a new suspect had arisen. And to question him, Martin took along Simmons with Jane. This felt like a jab to her confidence when they left for the vehicles, leaving the soon-to-be promoted rookie on desk duty. To answer the phones.<p>

As she sat behind the desk, playing with a stubby pencil, a man walked by her and sat at another desk. From what she could tell, it was essentially his own, but she could also tell that he shared it with another cop. Then she remembered who this man was: Kimball Cho. For a couple of seconds, she watched the Korean man with mild interest, but continued on with what she was assigned to do when the phone rang. Yet again it was a concerned parent asking if they had found Heather Langston yet.

Hanging up the phone, Lisbon let her face fall forward into her hands. She just wanted to get back to Sacramento to sleep in her own bed. Lisbon also greatly wished for this case to end soon, and for it to be over with the Langston girl going home, alive and well, to her worried parents.

"I just want this to be over," she mumbled.

"It will be, eventually."

Looking up, she saw the same officer glancing over paperwork. She had never heard him speak, but she was certain that it was he. And for some reason, his words were strangely reassuring.

"Thanks, Officer Cho."

* * *

><p>Sure enough, the "new" suspect was indeed the correct one. They found him pushing a screaming little Heather Langston into the trunk of a sedan. Once he had known that he had been caught, he seemed to try and decide whether or not to threaten the life of the little girl or his own. He eventually settled with Heather's, and held a gun to the small girl's temple as he roughly pulled her out of the sedan's truck.<p>

Jane was asked to stand on the sidelines, as no one wanted him to get hurt or in the way. He did what he was told, for the most part, and watched behind one of the vehicles as Martin and Simmons negotiated with the child abductor. Eventually he drifted from the safety of the vehicle and watched as his appearance made the abductor grow shaky and uneasy. At this, Jane started to retreat.

"YOU CAN'T TAKE HER AWAY FROM ME!" The man yelled. "I WON'T LET YOU!" The little girl started to cry harder than she had been before at the sound of the man yelling.

Martin had approached him a couple of steps at that point. "Put the gun down, Mr. Burns, put the gun down."

"NO! NO I WON'T!" To show his protest, Mr. Burns grabbed a fistful of Heather's dark brown curls and held onto them rather than onto her tiny arm. This also showed that he was not afraid to hurt the little girl, which made Jane take another step forward as some of his paternal instincts cropped up.

"Mr. Burns…"

"LEAVE US ALONE!"

At that moment, Mr. Burns pulled away from the sedan and started waving his gun around like a deranged man on a mission. When he saw the gun go up in the air, Jane took a couple of steps back and held his hands up to show that he was harmless. Inside his chest, Jane's heart began to beat rapidly to the point where it started to feel painful and breathing became difficult. He then quickly discovered that moving backwards and putting his hands in the air was a terrible idea with a deranged man with a gun around.

Mr. Burns eyed him immediately and pointed the gun at him. Cocking it, he improved his aim. His finger was on the trigger followed by a loud bang. Seconds after that one, another was heard as a bullet was expelled from its chamber.

Jane stood, motionless, and watched as Mr. Burns started to fall backwards. Heather was screaming and sobbing at the same time now, her little hands trying to push the hand off of her hair. Another bullet was fired and Mr. Burns completely fell backwards, dead. Looking over his shoulder, Jane saw Martin standing with his gun still raised; smoke leaving the barrel as he continued to stare at the newly dead body of Mr. Burns.

Slowly, Jane examined his body for any signs of blood or wounds. Nothing, he found. Taking a deep breath and nearly falling over, Jane started for the writhing little girl on the ground as she tried to get out of Mr. Burns' death grip.

Kneeling down beside her, Jane slowly started to pry open the death grip and slowly began to work on getting Heather free. As he did his work, he would softly murmur comforting words to the small girl, occasionally pausing to tell her to look into his eyes and breathe alongside him. It usually helped keep her calm for a few seconds, twenty-eight at most, until she would start to grow panicky again.

After about ten minutes of trying to get her hair out of the deceased's grip, Martin kneeled down beside him with a pair of scissors. Jane knew the little girl wouldn't want to lose a lot of hair, but he also knew that she didn't want to be this close to the deranged man that terrified her for the past three days. So, they cut away the remaining hair that was still in Mr. Burns's grip and slowly helped the shaking girl up.

Heather didn't want to stand up on her own two feet, so she flung her arms around Jane. Taking the hint, he picked her up and held her close to him. Only then was the time he realized that some of the blood that had dripped off of the body had gotten onto her, and Jane sighed.

Pulling her closer to him, he rubbed her back in a soothing manner and brought her over to one of the recently arrived EMT's. They checked her over, noted only a couple of bruises and scratches, and announced that she was healthy. Only when the little girl's parents arrived did he finally look into her eyes and see what caused him to stop. Her eyes were green. A beautiful shade of green that reminded him of Lisbon's. Hell, this child could have been Lisbon's with the green eyes, dark hair, and freckled fair skin.

"T-t-thank you," Heather told him as she got into the car with her parents and drove to the police station with a full-on escort.

As they started to leave, Jane waved goodbye.

* * *

><p>When she learned that Heather had been recovered and the abductor killed, Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. Overall, the case turned out better than she had originally thought it would. In these types of cases, if the little girl was recovered alive and her abductor killed (or something akin to that), it was a job well done.<p>

As they left Oakland to head back to Sacramento, Jane obviously coming along too, Martin had stopped to talk to Cho. She was not surprised that Martin had done this, as they needed a new agent and would prefer it if the new agent were an interrogator. Cho seemed surprised when the job offer was presented to him, but quickly masked it and told Martin he would have to think about it. Lisbon had a feeling that Cho would soon be working with the CBI.

Once they had arrived back in Sacramento, Lisbon then noted Jane's silence on the trip back. Not once did he say anything and nor did he try to play some useless road trip game. He remained quiet, as if he were in deep thought. And deep thought and Patrick Jane were not good mixes.

They stopped by the headquarters briefly to file things away and get to their own respected cars. When Lisbon caught sight of her car and started to it, she was stopped by Martin. When she was only a couple of steps away from her little Camry, she heard him clear his throat.

Slowly, Lisbon turned to face her superior. He stood; hands stuffed in his front pants pockets with a stern look on his face. Lisbon straightened her back and re-gripped the car keys in her hand and waited for Martin to fully address her.

"Agent Lisbon."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Sir."

He took a step forward. "Do you know why I'm here, Agent?"

She nodded again. "Yes, sir."

It didn't take a genius to figure out that Martin wanted to talk to her about the behaviour she and Jane had displayed at the innocent suspect's home. She didn't know what came over her, but she knew that the way she acted was inexcusable. So, she kind of deserved this conversation.

"Has Mr. Jane done anything to you that I should know about, Agent?"

Lisbon knew her eyes must have widened briefly, but she regained her composure in record time. Martin appeared to have noticed it, as he shifted his footing and continued to give her the very same stern look that he had started off giving her.

"No, sir. Mr. Jane has not done anything." She honestly didn't know why she was protecting Jane, as he not only was the bane of her existence, but he very well had acted inappropriately towards her.

Martin did not appear to believe her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes, I would have informed you otherwise."

There was a beat and Martin looked uncomfortable for a slight second. "Then are you two…lovers?"

When what he said registered, Lisbon felt her cheeks begin to warm up. To regain her composure, she swallowed. "No, sir."

From what she could tell, relief flooded across Martin's face. He quickly covered it up and nodded his head. "Well, that is all, Agent Lisbon. Drive safely and have a goodnight."

She nodded back to him. "You too, sir."

A few seconds after she spoke to him, Martin nodded his head in dismissal and walked away. After she saw him get into his car and drive off the premises, Lisbon got into her little Camry and drove home.

She arrived at her apartment in what seemed like record time. With a sigh of relief to be home, she cut the engine, got out of the car, and headed for her door. As she approached her door, she briefly contemplated whether or not she ought to check her mailbox, but decided against it. The mail could wait another day. She was too tired to check for any at the present time. With a slight shrug of her shoulders, she continued onwards.

Stopping before her door, she fumbled with her keys before sticking them in the door and turned. She opened the door and stepped inside the dark living (and kitchen) area of her apartment, but something felt off. As she stepped in, a strange prickling sensation made itself evident at the back of her neck.

Instinctively reaching for her gun, she heard a voice from her general couch area. "Good evening, Teresa."

With her hand still on her gun, she whirled around in the direction of the voice. As she continued to stare at the darkness, Lisbon could see a faint outline of a person sitting only a few steps away from her.

Hearing a rustle of fabric and followed by the click of the lamp, Lisbon came face to face with one Patrick Jane. In frustration, she pulled her hand away from her gun and let it fall to her sides.

"Jane, what the hell are you doing here?"

Jane looked around her apartment in a mock-lofty manner. "Waiting for you."

"Why?"

His gaze came back to hers. "What did Martin talk to you about?"

Lisbon narrowed her eyes at him. "That's none of your business, Jane."

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane shook his head. "Au contraire, Teresa, I'm sure it had everything to do with me."

She scoffed. "Right. Because the world just _revolves_ around you."

He did not falter. "No, it does not. But Martin did express a desire to speak with you after we had a bit of a disagreement in front of a suspect. That, and there was an obvious amount of tension in the air." The corners of his eyes crinkled. "It was vaguely sexual."

Lisbon felt her cheeks begin to heat up, but she just blinked and looked away from his gaze. "There was no sexual tension."

"Ah, so you do not deny Martin's reasoning?" Jane paused for a moment and smiled. "And yes, my dear, there was most definitely sexual tension."

Her eyes snapped to his, and he continued. "Because I would most certainly be lying if I said that I wasn't attracted to you."

She swallowed. "You're married. You have a family."

"And your point is?"

"This is wrong."

"Having a healthy sexual appetite is wrong?"

"Only if you're married and not fulfilling your." She swallowed again and paused. "Desires with your wife."

"Meh. I make love to her."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest. "Sex, you mean."

"We had sex, Teresa. It meant nothing."

Lisbon's face flushed and she felt anger starting to bubble up within her once more. She took a few more steps closer to Jane until she towered over him as he sat on the couch. "Are you saying that I'm nothing? Because it sure as hell sounded like it!"

Jane shook his head. "No. I'm just saying that sexual intercourse with you is different than with my wife."

She shut her eyes and counted to ten. She made it to three before he spoke again. "I'm not saying that you were bad or anything. I'm just saying that I make love to Angela and have sex with the other women. I separate the two. It makes me become less atta—."

He was unable to finish his sentence. Lisbon lost her cool and punched him square in the nose. His head flew back, smacked against the wall, and then came back forward again. He stared back at her while clutching his nose, blood starting to seep through his nostrils.

"Get out," she said in a low voice.

When he made no sign of moving, Lisbon grabbed the front of his shirt, hoisted him up from the couch and pushed him in the direction of the door. He stumbled a couple of steps and turned to look at her with a mild look of…upset. Almost like he had regretted what he said.

Well, she would too if she had gotten punched in the nose.

Wordlessly, he left her apartment without looking back at her. And the whole time, Lisbon had her arms wrapped her body and contemplated whether or not to take a long, hot shower or bath. Because of what he had said, it made her feel unclean. Maybe she should have told Martin the truth.

**Because Jane is Jane, he had to get in some kind of trouble at one point. Both in physical (earlier in the chapter) and kind of personal (relationship with Lisbon). So, the drama/angst had to come in at some point. Overall, their situation is going to be complicated in this fic. Nothing really is going to be simple for them. Secret: (At some points, they will think they have it figured out and that everything is simple/working, but not really.) **


	11. Chapter Ten

**Thank you to those who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! Hope you all like this latest installment! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. It is on my birthday list, however! **

Chapter Ten

**January 6-7, 2003**

Jane was thankful to be returning back to Sacramento, even more so now that he had had an argument with Angela the night before. It was not an uncommon thing for Angela to decide to nag him about changing his profession to do something a bit more honourable, as they were most likely going to get caught rather soon due to keeping this up for way too long. Of course, he had told her, they had nothing to worry about. She was worrying over nothing. So, instead of flying this time, he had decided to drive the long distance in the mere hours of the morning. He felt bad about not being there to greet Charlotte in the morning, but he figured that Angela would have no problem explaining his absence.

Sighing to himself, he clutched the steering wheel tighter and continued towards Sacramento. He'd be there in two more hours, tops, and he couldn't wait to wait around there for three or so days by the poolside. Yes, he had told Angela that the CBI had called him and needed him. It was false, and he was sure she didn't believe him anyway, but that was all right. She sometimes didn't believe him even if there was an actual case.

And then there was Lisbon. The very nature of their relationship was different in comparison to his others. And as he hadn't seen her for almost a month, (the CBI called him twice, he told them he had pneumonia) he doubted that she hadn't forgotten about how they had parted last time, as it wasn't on the best of terms. So, a nice vacation away from both his wife and Lisbon seemed ideal at the moment.

Two hours later, he arrived in Sacramento. It was too early for him to check into any type of hotel, so he went off to find some good eggs for breakfast and wait.

* * *

><p>In the mere hours of the morning, Lisbon didn't like to be awakened by her phone. Especially if Martin was on the other end these days. Lately he had been upset about not being able to get Jane to come on the last two cases of which they needed his assistance. He had pneumonia, apparently. Lisbon thought that was a bunch of crap, especially because she had seen him on television later that night, perfectly healthy.<p>

Well, she'd rather be fast asleep in bed than be here, at a crime scene, scribbling in her notepad. In a state park, a young woman was found shot to death. The woman, no more than twenty-five, had three shots in a perfect triangle formation right over her heart. Whoever had done this was practiced with firearms and found this murder to be personal.

She watched as the coroner leaned over the deceased woman, taking fingerprints and samples from underneath her fingernails. When the coroner was done, he smoothed down the dead girl's blonde hair and started to stand up, sealing away the samples. The coroner, Dr. McArthur, gave Lisbon a weak smile before he started to head back to his van, firing off orders as to what has to be done with the body.

At the coroner's departure, Lisbon took a deep breath and turned around to take in the sight. It was busy and morning traffic was just beginning to rush in. And of course, curious pedestrians had to stop and gawk at the dead body and all the police.

"Lisbon!" she heard Martin shout. "Control the civilians, please!"

With a nod and a "Yes sir," Lisbon was on her way to control keep the pedestrians from either taking shortcuts through the state park or to stop them from taking pictures with their "fancy" digital cameras. Either way, she had to be stuck with the boring work.

Wasn't the new rookie supposed to do this sort of stuff?

* * *

><p>On his way from the diner to the hotel, Jane ran into a familiar face. Well, an old client, that is. An inebriated old client to be more specific, and Jane wasn't surprised that Toby Mulvie was drunk. That was one of the main reasons why Toby even saw him – to help him cope with the loss of his wife, Callie, and keep him from drinking his days away.<p>

Callie Mulvie had died of breast cancer about seventeen years ago, leaving behind her husband (already an alcoholic man) and daughter. Toby, unable to cope and a former soldier, resorted back to drinking away his sorrows and taking out all his pained emotions on his young daughter, Sasha.

One of the main reasons why Jane even started letting a man like Toby see him was because of Sasha. The girl, young at that time, was a gem. She always had a positive attitude despite her father's violent alcoholism and the untimely death of her mother and found it easy, to an extent, to cope with the pain. Sasha Mulvie also had a passion for baking blueberry muffins, and Jane loved to eat them as much as she loved making them.

The second reason was because Toby had a large sum of money in his bank account due to his mother and wife's deaths. He almost cleaned out Toby Mulvie's bank account during that time, but he hoped there were no hard feelings. After all, he "connected" the Mulvie's to the late Callie.

Out of the pure goodness of his heart (and about forty dollars), Jane sat in the sitting room of the Mulvie house. And Jane did not like what he saw. The house, stale and musky, was littered with bottles of whiskey and tequila. There were a couple of broken shot glasses lying haphazardly around the floor combined with wrappings from fast food chain restaurants. There was also a large amount of dirty laundry lying around.

"'orry 'bout the mess, 'Trick," Toby slurred. "'Sha 'zually 'as it cleaned up a'bit."

_Hiccup _

Jane smiled. "No problem, Toby. How have you been?" He really didn't care about the man, but he was also wondering if he could get some money out of him before he left him.

"'m fine. A l'il tired ta be 'on-est."

_Hiccup_

The place also smelled like alcohol. And a lot of it.

"'Sha's kid gives me a head…" he trailed off for a few seconds before remembering what he ought to say. "Ache."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Sasha has a kid?"

Toby nodded clumsily. "Yesh. Ann-oying l'il bitch, tha kid."

"Toby…"

Even though Jane really didn't give a damn about Toby Mulvie, he did about Sasha. He had assumed that Sasha lived elsewhere and visited occasionally, as she was nowhere to be seen. And now that Sasha apparently had a baby, it made him even more worried.

"Toby, where is the kid? Where is the baby?"

Toby rolled his eyes and reached for a half-empty bottle of whiskey. "I dunno. Good rid-dance."

Leaning back into a moth-eaten sofa, Jane thought for a couple of moments. Something was not right, and he had a bad feeling about this whole situation.

* * *

><p>She hated crowd-control duty. Not only did it bring the worst out in her, but also it greatly annoyed her. And because it happened on a Monday morning this time around, she knew this week was to be doomed.<p>

Taking a few moments to get a breather, Lisbon leaned up against a skinny tree and closed her eyes. Crossing her arms over her chest and still clutching onto her notepad, Lisbon let her mind begin to drift towards the future. And all her thoughts led up to her shaking Minelli's hand and accepting the position as senior agent.

At the thought of becoming senior agent one day, her lips quirked up in a smile and her mood increased only slightly. While she was in the middle of taking in a breath, she heard a noise from a bush behind her. Pausing and cracking open one eye, she scanned her surroundings. Everything was the same as it had been just moments ago, so she saw no harm in reclosing her eyes. But as her eyelids were about to meet, she heard the rustling noise again followed by a whimper.

This time, her eyes snapped open completely and she whirled around in search of the source of the noise. Peering into the bush behind her, she faintly saw pink fabric. Quickly, Lisbon got on her hands and knees and parted the branches of the bush, ignoring the small scratch over her knuckles.

At the sight of a baby girl, dressed in pink with a little white bow on her head, Lisbon stopped. The girl looked scared, and at the sight of Lisbon began to whimper. Lisbon raised an eyebrow and began reaching for the girl, who started to pull away.

"Shh, you're all right," Lisbon cooed. "I've got you."

Grasping onto the little girl, she hoisted her out of the bush. Standing up, Lisbon looked around for a medic. When she spotted one, she looked down at the little girl's face before waving the medic over.

"Where did the baby come from?" the medic asked upon arrival.

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and set the child down on the grass. "She was in the bushes."

The medic nodded and began looking at the girl. When he titled the baby's head to the side, that's when Lisbon saw it. On the side of the girl's head, there was a purple bruise. At the sound of her gasp and her gesture towards the mark, the medic turned the girl around and saw the bruise. Frowning, he gingerly felt around the mark, presumably looking for skull fractures.

"LISBON!"

Her head shot up at the sound of her name. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Martin coming towards her. And he didn't look happy.

Turning her body completely towards Martin, Lisbon braced her hands on her hips. "Yes sir?"

"The new rookie, Agent Cho, is starting today. I would like you to be back at the – is that a baby?"

Lisbon kept on nodding and looked down at the little girl lying on the grass, her onsie gone and sitting only in, from what Lisbon could tell, a soiled diaper. "Uh, yeah. I found her in the bushes."

Martin took a step back, waved his hand back and forth due to the smell, and looked up at Lisbon. "Do you think she's the murder victim's?"

Once again, Lisbon shrugged her shoulders. "It's possible."

"Change of plans, then. Wait here with the baby until social services comes around. I'm going to go tell Simmons to go back to headquarters."

Lisbon nodded. "Yes sir."

But then she realized why she was to look after the baby, or the most probable reason. And it was because she's female.

* * *

><p>When Toby passed out after a superfluous amount of drinking, Jane had gotten up from the moth-bitten sofa and began to snoop around the house. By the time he had turned a corner, he already didn't like what he saw. There were more broken bottoms littered around in the hallway than in the sitting room, and next to one of them was a baby book.<p>

Leaning down, Jane carefully picked up the small, thick baby book and held it in his hands. It reeked of alcohol, for one thing, and appeared as if it were waterlogged. Overall, it didn't look like it should even be in an alcoholic's lair. Turning it over, Jane caught a familiar title – a book he had read to Charlotte oh so many times when she was a baby.

Carefully, he tried to open the book, but accidentally split it open completely. Half of the book fell to the floor, lying against the alcoholic debris. The very sight seemed to have sucked any sort of happiness from Jane.

He ought to call the CBI.

With a sigh, he set the second half of the book down on the floor along with the first and stood up. Reaching into one of his pockets, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open. Without saying another word, he dialed Simmons' number and waited. The man picked up rather quickly, out of breath too, and Jane just wordlessly told him the address to the Mulvie house, hoping that Simmons would be smart enough to come over.

When he flipped the phone closed, he heard the sound of a bottle crunching underneath a boot. Whirling around, he saw Toby Mulvie standing behind him, a bottle, this one almost full, in hand.

"'Ya took ma money, you bastard!"

Jane raised his arms up in front of him and took a step back. "Toby, listen to me…"

"'YA TOOK MA MONEY!"

At the sound of the raised voice, Jane cringed. He took another step back to put even more distance between him and the still inebriated man. "Toby…"

"NO!"

"Toby, please listen to me. You don't want to do this."

Toby didn't say anything else. The drunk man extended his hand in an attempt to grab onto Jane. When Jane moved away from him, barely keeping his jacket out of the man's grasp, he stumbled over a full bottle on the floor. Fumbling to try and regain his step, he felt Toby grasp onto the back of his jacket. Eyes widening in alarm and heart pounding in his chest, Jane wiggled his way out of his jacket and took off down the hallway once more. If he could get into the bedrooms, lock it, and then go through a window, everything would be all right.

"C'OME BACK 'ERE, 'TRICK!" Toby roared from behind him.

He didn't stop to look back., but he knew that Toby wasn't far behind him. Even a few steps behind him, he could hear the drunken man's clumsy footsteps clamoring around and stepping upon the empty bottles.

"'TRICK!"

Jane only stopped to grasp onto the doorknob and push it open, even though it was just for a second. In his hurried state to open the door, Jane lost his balance and stumbled towards the bed in the middle of the room.

Eyes widening in shock and fear, he turned around to see Toby burling through the door, eyes now bloodshot and livid. Scrambling once more, Jane raced for the window, and just as he was about to reach it, he felt the back of his shirt collar be grabbed. Twisting his body around and trying to swing a feeble punch in the drunken man's direction, he was met with a fist in return.

His head snapped back when Toby's fist connected with his jaw. On instinct, Jane reached up and felt the pained area and looked at Toby for a moment, only to find that the drunken man's knee came up and connected with Jane's lower abdomen. Doubling over in pain, Jane knew immediately that he was not in a good position. With a furious sound, Toby's foot came in contact with the side of Jane's head, knocking him into an unconscious state.

* * *

><p>It was just after noon when Lisbon was able to sit down for lunch. For the majority of the morning, Martin had had her on baby duty. And having to dote on a small child really worked up her appetite. Especially because her meager breakfast hardly filled her up all those hours ago.<p>

Just as she was about to take a bite out of her ham and cheese sandwich, Simmons entered the kitchenette area. He looked perturbed as he stared down at his cell phone. Lisbon took a bite out of her sandwich, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. Simmons usually had trouble with modern-day technology.

"Someone called me today."

Lisbon nodded in response, her mouth still full of her sandwich. "It sounded a lot like Jane, too."

At the mention of the bane's existence, Lisbon slowed down her chewing. Jane normally didn't call Simmons; it was either her or Martin. Shrugging, she finished chewing and wrote it off that Jane couldn't possibly have called. Especially since he was back in Malibu with his family.

"Well, whoever it was, they left an address."

Glancing over at Simmons briefly, Lisbon shrugged her shoulders once more at the older agent. In return, he shrugged his own shoulders and started towards the refrigerator for his lunch when the new rookie, Cho, walked in. He had arrived around ten in the morning, as per Martin's request. Lisbon almost scoffed at his somewhat tardy arrival. (Martin had her at a crime scene before seven in the morning on her first day.)

"Who left an address?" Cho asked.

Martin looked over at the rookie. "I don't know. He sounded a lot like our consultant."

Cho didn't say anything; he just went towards the coffee pot as if he were on a mission. "It probably was," he said flatly.

Simmons quirked his eyebrow. "But our consultant lives in Malibu."

Cho poured himself a cup of coffee. "From what I've heard about Patrick Jane is that he tends to move around a lot without telling his supervising agents." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Jane always has reasons as to what he does, I think," Simmons countered. "There really isn't anything for him here in Sacramento. He's usually in San Francisco, Los Angeles, or in the general Burbank area."

"That's if he decides not to work a case with us," Lisbon mumbled right before she took another bite from her sandwich.

"Who works a case with us?"

Everyone in the room stopped and turned to see Martin and Minelli walking into the kitchenette. No doubt the duo was either trying to get themselves fresh cups of coffee or their own lunches. Either way, their arrival was most unexpected at this moment.

"Jane, sir," Simmons replied.

"What about him?"

"Well, he usually works the cases he wants, you know?"

Sighing and walking over to the refrigerator to pull out his lunch, Minelli nodded. "Yes, Jane does come and go as he pleases. But he's good at what he does."

Martin didn't say anything; he just went over to the coffee maker and poured himself a hearty cup of joe. He knew better than to argue with what Minelli thought about the SCU. Especially when it came to everyone's _favourite_ consultant, Jane.

Clearing his throat, Simmons perked up. "Well, someone called me on my phone and left a message…"

Minelli merely raised his eyebrow, as if almost to tell Simmons that phones were supposed to receive calls these days. "And the guy on the other end sounded an awful lot like Jane, you see. He left a message too."

Without waiting for Minelli to answer him, Simmons pulled out his silver Nokia and flipped it open, searching through a couple of things before a familiar voice filled the small space of the kitchenette. There was no denying that the other man on the end was none other than Patrick Jane. He sounded preoccupied and almost bothered, something that was quite rare for the wily man.

When the message ended, the voice still lingering in the air by the time the automated voice filled the room. Lisbon felt a small sense of dread begin to bubble up in her stomach, as if something wasn't right. She set her sandwich down and looked over at Minelli for answers and then to Martin.

Furrowing his brow, Minelli set his lunch down at the counter and looked over at Martin. "Your consultant is in Sacramento and something doesn't feel right."

Martin nodded, taking in what his superior was telling him. "I want at least two of your people to go check out that address, Martin."

"Lisbon, Cho, you heard him. Check out the address."

Cho tipped his head slightly and walked towards the bullpen. Taking one last glance at her superior, Lisbon stuffed the remainder of her sandwich into her mouth, balled up the brown paper bag, and followed Cho to the bullpen. There she picked up her firearm and secured her holster.

Within moments later, she was driving towards the mysterious address alongside Kimball Cho.

* * *

><p>His heard hurt and everything was fuzzy. Well, actually, saying that his heard hurt was putting things lightly. His head felt like someone had hit him with a metal baseball bat. He would know, as his brother-in-law, Danny, did it to him right before he and Angela ran off together.<p>

Groaning and trying to sit up, Jane rubbed the side of his head, grimacing at the nice lump he felt beneath his fingers. Wincing when he felt a certain sensitive point, he tried harder to move into a sitting position, but found it difficult to move once he realized that his ribs were protesting any form of movement involving the torso.

"Bastard cracked something," he muttered under his breath as he grit his teeth and fought through the pain to sit up.

His breath heavy with exertion, he leaned back against the bed in the middle of the room, which he had been laying next to. Closing his eyes and trying to regain some form of breath, he clumsily reached into his jacket pocket and shakily removed his little cell phone. Holding it in his hand for a second, he flipped it open with his thumb and ran it over the glowing numbers.

There was no questioning it; he had to call someone that would be able to help him. He knew he had called Simmons earlier, but he didn't have enough faith that Simmons would have been able to press a few buttons here and there and actually get the message. He should have called Lisbon first and then Simmons second. If he had done that, he probably would not be in this mess.

Inhaling deeper once more, he opened his eyes and glided his thumb over the lit up numbers to make the call. Shakily, he held the phone up to his ear and waited. He was delighted to hear the phone ringing on the other end, but when Lisbon didn't answer, the pit in his stomach grew.

* * *

><p>The house belonged to one Toby Mulvie, a widower and war veteran. He lived with his daughter, Sasha. There was also a record of a domestic violence suit filed, but revoked later on. And even though it had been revoked, it still worried Lisbon to some extent that Jane may be in some sort of trouble. Regardless of what he had said to her the last time she saw him.<p>

Cho's cell phone rang when they were about halfway there. It was Simmons calling them. They were both perplexed that he was calling them, as they had just hung less than ten minutes earlier. He was calling to tell them that Toby's daughter, Sasha, was the woman they had found earlier that morning.

Dread had managed its way into her stomach once more and she sped up the car just a little bit. Not only was Toby Mulvie their top suspect, but also a (not so innocent) civilian was in danger if Toby turned out to be their man.

When they arrived and pulled up to the curb, the hunch within her intensified. She looked over at Cho and titled her head to the side. "Call for backup."

Cho nodded at her and picked up the radio. As he was doing that, she stepped out of the SUV and headed across the half-dead yard towards the front door. She jumped a little when she heard Cho close the car door behind him, but faced forward once more and reached for her gun as she rang the doorbell.

After twenty seconds of no answer, Lisbon rung the doorbell once more. She only waited ten more seconds before she began to manually knock on the wooden door. Leaning in closer to see if she could possibly hear anything on the other side, she continued to knock with her entire fist this time.

"Mr. Mulvie, this is the CBI! Open up!"

There was still no answer. Without giving Toby Mulvie another chance, she looked at Cho, gestured for the door, and he wordlessly backed up a bit, ran towards the door, and kicked it off its hinges.

Briefly looking at the door, barely hanging on to its frame, Lisbon admired Cho for a second. Not many rookies were capable of knocking down doors, but Cho apparently was an exception.

Gesturing with her shoulder how to move it, Lisbon pulled her gun from its holster and stepped into the house. She was immediately hit by a musky and stale scent of a house that had been neglected over a period of years. Followed by the smell, she saw all the bottles littering the floor. And haphazardly on the floor, next two several empty bottles and slightly on top of them, was a gun.

Changing her grip on her gun, she gestured for Cho to head down one part of the house while she went down the other. Nodding in affirmation, Cho set off towards the left side while Lisbon veered right.

Every time her foot hit a bottle lying on the floor, the pit in her stomach grew larger and larger. About a quarter of a way into the hallway was when she felt the sickness begin to rise in her stomach. No doubt Toby Mulvie was an alcoholic and she immediately sympathized with Sasha and her baby. Especially since her own father had been one to drink away his horrors.

Once she reached the end of the hallway, she softly reached out and grasped onto the knob. Turning it to the right and pushing it open, she watched as the door revealed its contents. An unmade bed was in the center, followed by dirty clothes and garbage. This part of the house also smelled of stale urine.

Grimacing, she took another step in and tried to look around where the door was, only for her eyes to land on a man propped up against the bed. A man with a large lump on the side of his head sat on the floor, eyes closed, and breathing raggedly.

The man also happened to be Patrick Jane.

Quickly holstering her gun, Lisbon took a couple of large steps until she kneeled down next to the consultant. Taking his face in her hands to better examine the large lump and nice bruising on his head, she felt a sense of relief when he jolted awake.

"Teresa?"

He stared up at her, thankfulness obviously evident in his eyes. In return, she furrowed her brow and pulled her hands away from him to step back a bit. "What are you doing here?"

At her louder tone, he winced. "I wanted to get away from Angela," Jane said weakly.

Lisbon stared at him indecorously. "You mean to say that you drove five hours just to get away from your wife?"

In normal circumstances, Jane most likely would have nodded his affirmation. Instead, he weakly smiled at her and mumbled a quick "yes."

"But why would you come…_here_?"

Jane raised one shoulder and quickly dropped it back down. "I ran into an old client."

"Toby Mulvie?"

"Yes. An old client of mine."

"Ah, is that why he bashed your head in?" she joked.

As Jane opened his mouth to answer her, he stopped when he saw the towering silhouette of Toby Mulvie behind her. For a drunken man that left an exorbitant amount of empty bottles around, he sure could get around quietly.

"Teresa…"

In the shadows, he saw Toby begin to raise his hand. Then he heard the slight creak of a floorboard underneath Toby's feet.

"Wha—."

Lisbon wasn't able to finish her sentence when they heard the click of a gun. Without thinking or worrying about his injuries, he grabbed onto Lisbon's upper arms and pulled her closer to his body. Taking one last fleeting glance at the silhouette, Jane pushed his lower body into Lisbon's and moved them to the side just as the gun went off and a bullet lodged into the bed.

She gasped and moved away from Jane, taking a moment to glance down at his pained body as she reached for her holstered gun. Between the drunken man clambering into the room, Jane's heavy breathing, and her thundering heart, Lisbon found it hard to concentrate on getting her gun into her hands.

Toby was in full view, the gun held level to her chest as she still kneeled on the ground. The gun clicked and Lisbon pulled out her gun, but knew she wouldn't have time to ready it and fire.

"TERESA!"

She heard three earth-shattering gunshots followed by a heavy body dropping to the floor. Her heart stopped and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of Toby Mulvie's blood staining the floor, his eyes still open in death.

Seconds later, Cho entered the room, his smoking gun lowering at the sight of Lisbon. "You guys okay?"

Lisbon nodded and looked over at Jane, who stared back at her. "Thanks, Cho."

Cho didn't say anything as he began to holster his weapon and kicked away Toby's gun. As he left the room, he took one last glance at Lisbon as she took a step back and kneeled down beside the injured consultant.

She was still in shock; Lisbon began asking Jane a few basic questions. ("Can you stand up?" "On a one to ten scale, how bad is the pain?" "Do you think you may be concussed?") It wasn't until she heard the familiar sirens of emergency vehicles until it dawned on her that Patrick Jane had saved her life.

* * *

><p>It was several hours later when she arrived back at her apartment, and she was greatly thankful for the ability to sink into a hot bath. As she was still a bit jumpy from the day's events, time to soak in the hot water was welcomed whole-heartedly. Afterwards, she drained the tub, put on an oversized T-shirt and sweats, and headed over towards the kitchen to see her choices for dinner. As usual, there was only some milk and dangerous looking takeout food.<p>

Grimacing, she closed the refrigerator and decided that she would order a pizza. Just as she was about to reach for the phone, she heard a knock on the door. Before she answered the door, she knew who it was. There was only one person in the world that would come knocking on her door at a time like this.

Looking into the peephole and seeing his distorted face, she sighed loudly. "Jane, go back to Malibu."

"But Teresa, I brought mu shu pork!"

Cursing the man and her growling stomach, she opened the door. He stood there, arms at his sides along with a plastic "THANK-YOU!" bag that was so stereotypical of takeout chains.

Glancing down at the bag, she made a grab for it, but he pulled it out of her reach. "Uh uh uh, Teresa, if you want it, I must eat with you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why?" She knew why.

"Because I don't want to eat alone and I'm sure you're quite tired of it."

"I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't be," he said softly.

Her eyes opened a bit wider and he took that moment to move into her apartment. She was about to kick him out of the apartment when the delicious smell of the mu shu pork assaulted her senses. God, she was too hungry to tell him to get out of her apartment. Screw calling the pizza man, she'd have the takeout.

She watched Jane set the bag on the counter and begin to pull out the separate plastic containers and silverware. At this time, she glanced over him. He had two butterfly plasters on the side of his head, holding together a small cut that she hadn't seen. The bruising had intensified over the last few hours, but the swelling of the lump had gone down some. No doubt he'd been icing it.

Suddenly, glancing at the injuries that Jane had received earlier today made Lisbon recall the memories of her father when she was stuck in a drunken stupor, and she instantly felt sorry for Toby. He had had no chance to explain himself, even though they ruled that he had killed his own daughter. Still, Toby should have still had a chance…

Absentmindedly, she reached up and rubbed the side of her cheek, remembering how her father had hit her there more than once. Closer towards her nose, her fingertips found the barely noticeable scar that she usually kept concealed with minor foundation. For some reason, that one scar had stayed after all these years…

"Teresa?"

She snapped out of it when he said her name. Blinking a couple of times and hoping she didn't have a glazed expression on her face, she reached in and grasped onto the container of the mu shu pork.

When she sat down on her couch, a thought entered her head. Toby Mulvie didn't appear to be a man of any sort of wealth, unlike Jane's other clients. That either meant that Jane sucked that family dry of any source of funds or they lost a large sum of money and he had to stop "helping" them.

"How was Toby Mulvie a client of yours, Jane?" she asked as she forked a piece of pork.

Jane exhaled the breath he had been keeping in. "The Mulvie's were clients of mine after Callie, Toby's wife and Sasha's mother, died. I was the bridge between this world and where Callie was."

She figured that was the case, but at the mention of Callie Mulvie, Lisbon couldn't help but momentarily set her food on her lap and look down. "Toby was an alcoholic before he had met Callie, but she made him want to get better. And when she died, he became that drunk man he died as."

"How did he afford it?"

Jane glanced down at his own food. "I felt bad for his daughter. I gave them a discount."

Lisbon felt her lip tremble for a second and felt some tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Closing her eyes, she had to command herself not to cry before Patrick Jane. Out of all the people in the world, he was not to see her cry.

Without another word, she stabbed another piece of pork and placed it in her mouth. They finished their meal in silence, Jane occasionally looking over at Lisbon when she refused to look back over at him. She knew he was doing this, but was grateful that he had refrained from saying anything to her.

When they were finished, he held out his hand for her garbage. Briefly looking up at him, she handed the empty plastic container over into his hands. He drew his lips into a thin line and walked over to the bin and threw away the containers.

"Thank you," she said.

She heard him sigh. "I thought you were to be hungry and I wanted company while I ate."

Closing her eyes, she breathed in and knew he heard the slight sniffle of her nose. "No, I was thanking you for saving my life today."

"You're welcome." He seemed uncomfortable at her thanks.

She gave him a slight nod and started to walk towards the kitchen area. "Would you like a cup of coffee or tea?"

"Tea, please."

She nodded and started opening the cupboards in search for any tea she was sure she had stocked up somewhere. At the back of the second cupboard, she found a slightly dusty box of peppermint tea.

"All I have is peppermint. Is that all right?"

Lisbon waited for a couple of seconds before she turned. "Jane?"

He was right behind her, his eyes smoky as they looked into hers. Under his intense gaze, she instantly felt much smaller than she usually did around him. Tenderly, he reached up and brushed his fingertips down her cheek, briefly stopping by the small, thin scar. His darker eyes looked curious at the blemish, but he continued his fingers down her jaw to the column of her neck.

His pupils dilated.

"Jane…"

He didn't let her finish. His lips softly brushed over hers before he applied more pressure to the kiss. Leaning into it a bit more, Jane placed a hand on her waist, his thumb right under her breast. He squeezed that area lightly and she inhaled. His lips pressed against hers even more firmly than before and his entire body pressed her into the counter. The hand at her waist drifted down to the hem of her shirt and slowly started to lift it up.

Carefully, he ran his warm hands down the entire length of her belly. With one finger, he swirled it around her navel, reveling in the sharp little gasp she made. Pulling her even closer, he reached up with one hand and tangled it in her hair, pulling her much closer so there would be no space between them.

Lisbon lost the ability to think. Her head was practically swimming about in a vast ocean of lust when his mouth left hers and began to trail down the side of her neck. He nipped the sensitive skin and rolled his hips against hers, eliciting another sharp gasp from her lips. She felt him begin to turn her body around and slowly move towards the bedroom.

"Why don't we take this to bed?" he whispered against the shell of her ear, his breath causing her to shiver.

Without saying anything, she nodded. And with each step she took towards the bedroom, she felt her heart pound against her chest. This was wrong, so wrong, it told her with every step. Closing her eyes and turning around to face Jane, she willed what tiny bit of self-control she still had to speak out.

"Jane, we shouldn't—."

Lisbon was unable to finish her sentence when Jane's hands gripped her upper arms and lips were placed over hers. In surprise, she felt her eyes widen before they closed. He pushed her down on the bed and moved her to the middle. When her smaller hands gripped onto his shirt, he leaned down and kissed her again.

* * *

><p>At three in the morning, Jane awakened in an unfamiliar bed. But when the familiar feeling of a soft, naked body and the familiar scent of soap and cinnamon flooded his senses, he felt his body automatically relax. Tucked within his arms was none other than Teresa Lisbon.<p>

Smiling sheepishly at the sight of the petite woman in his arms, he reached down to pull some of her hair away from her face and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a second and he took the time to inhale her scent once more.

She was out. After their second round, she had fallen fast asleep in his arms. Thirty minutes after that, he woke her up from her slumber for round three. Since then, she had been using his arm as a pillow.

It wasn't an uncommon thing for him to have sex multiple times with the same woman during the same night, but it was an uncommon thing to share her bed for the night. When he had initially awakened, he felt instantly nervous about having fallen asleep tangled with the little firecracker. He also felt extremely comfortable being next to her at the same time.

Realizing that he really ought to leave and head back to Malibu, he slowly started to untangle himself from Lisbon. When he got his arms away from her and began to roll away, he heard her mumble something incoherently.

"Patrick?"

He turned to her. "Shh, Teresa. I'll be back."

Blinking her sleepy eyes at him, she nodded and let her head rest on the pillow this time. Immediately after it hit, she fell back asleep. With a sigh, Jane pulled on his clothes and started towards the door when he came to the conclusion that he couldn't just leave her here without giving her some sort of heart felt note.

Finding a pad with lined paper, he tore off a piece and picked up a ballpoint pen he found close to the laundry basket. Quickly, he wrote down three words and set the note on her pillow close to her hand. One more time, he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead before he left the room.

"_I was wrong,"_ the note read.

**After seventeen and a half pages and nearly 7,000 words, this chapter is finally finished. It was hard to write it, too! Happy Easter!**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**I'm sure some of you are thinking "Finally! She updated!" Put it this way, this week is going to be super busy! So, I'm really glad I got this out before the week is out! **

**Thank you all for the wondrous reviews, readings, subscriptions, and favourites!**

**April - Thank you so much! I am really glad you are enjoying this! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist**

Chapter Eleven

**January 13, 2003**

It had been one week after Toby Mulvie's shooting and Lisbon was required to visit the department shrink until the doctor signed a form. She fought Martin when he told her that she had to go visit the shrink and refused to give him her real reason – she hated the concept of someone trying to get into her head. Cho too was required to see the therapist, but he was scheduled to go on Wednesdays. Lisbon had a feeling that Cho wouldn't have that many visits with the department therapist.

Jane had gone to a therapist whom he "trusted completely" and was signed off that very day. When he delivered the form to Minelli, Lisbon knew that it had been fictitious. Despite his serious demeanour whilst delivering the form, she was able to catch the smirk across his features when he walked past her.

"Agent Lisbon."

Lisbon looked forward, her eyes locking on the small form of Dr. Julie Logan, the department shrink assigned to see to she and Cho. Dr. Logan, a woman in her mid-fifties with greying hair and reading glasses hanging on the tip of her nose, was determined to make sure that Lisbon went through with the sessions. She made this clear once Lisbon entered the room.

Shifting on the couch, Lisbon crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. "Can you tell me what happened last Monday?" Dr. Logan continued.

"Yes," Lisbon nodded, "I was called to a scene and was put on crowd control." She did not like having to talk to shrinks, and she almost preferred the crowd control to this. "And just as I was finishing, I heard a small child crying in the bushes."

Dr. Logan furrowed her brow. "How is the child?"

"Excuse me?"

"The child, Agent Lisbon, how is she?"

Lisbon nodded. "She's fine. Child Protective Services have put her into a foster home."

Drawing her lips into a thin line, Dr. Logan wrote something down on her clipboard. "The case was a hard one, was it not?" Lisbon didn't answer her. "Toby Mulvie was an abusive alcoholic."

Lisbon nodded once more. "Yes he was."

Dr. Logan's gaze softened. "Agent Lisbon, do you know why you are here?"

Exhaling, Lisbon uncrossed her ankles. "Because I was involved in a shooting and I need you to sign off on me."

The good doctor merely shrugged her shoulders. "That is only partly true. Yes, you were involved in a shooting and witnessed a man dying before your eyes just mere seconds after you thought you were going to die. But you are also here because Agent Martin wishes to make sure you all right. This is not just about the shooting, Agent Lisbon, but also about your childhood."

"My childhood?" Lisbon echoed.

Dr. Logan nodded. "Yes, because you came from a home with an alcoholic father and no mother. Agent Martin felt that the parallels between your past and Sasha Mulvie's were so akin that you were required to come see me."

"My father wasn't abusive," Lisbon said quickly.

Lisbon knew that Dr. Logan didn't believe her, but she knew that she still had to try and convince the woman that she was fine. Yes, she grew up primarily motherless and with a numb, alcoholic father, but she also didn't want people to know about it. It wouldn't affect her ability to work a case, as it wasn't pertinent.

Dr. Logan's gaze locked with Lisbon's, her eyes unmoving behind her glasses. Under her gaze, Lisbon shifted in her seat and avoided contact with her eyes. She knew it was a bad move because Dr. Logan was most likely confident that she had been abused as a child.

With a sigh, Dr. Logan changed the subject. "How do you feel about Mr. Jane saving your life?"

This brought her attention back to the department shrink. How did she feel? She felt grateful that he had saved her. Jane could have so easily used her as a human shield to protect himself, but he hadn't. He had put his own body between him and Toby Mulvie.

"Agent Lisbon?"

She blinked. "I felt…grateful."

"Grateful how?"

"Jane doesn't…Jane tends to think of himself."

Dr. Logan cocked her head to the side. "What makes you say that?"

"He plays people for his own benefit without thinking about the consequences of his actions and…" she trailed off, mind thinking of whether or not she should open up this "can of worms" and comment how he tends to take women as he pleases.

"And?"

"And he is unfaithful to his wife."

Her voice had almost been a whisper, and Dr. Logan had leaned forward to try and grasp what the young agent had just told her. After taking a few seconds to process and think of a response, Dr. Logan looked up at Lisbon with searching eyes.

"What makes you think he is unfaithful to his wife?"

Lisbon once more shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "If you would see him with some of his clients, you would understand," she said carefully.

Dr. Logan chuckled. "Well, we all know that Mr. Jane has a rather charismatic personality."

"No, I meant that he tends to get a little flirtatious with the women…and can be quite forward." She immediately felt her cheeks begin to heat up.

"Some men are just natural flirts," Dr. Logan stated simply. "Tell me, Agent Lisbon, has Mr. Jane been _forward_ towards you?"

Now the doctor had an impish look on her face. If she weren't the rookie, she'd sure as hell be plotting Martin's death by now. Maybe Minelli's too, as he had a say in hiring Dr. Logan.

"Interesting." The doctor scribbled down a few notes and looked up once more. "He has been and it is effecting your judgement over him."

Lisbon looked down at her hands and breathed. "He's a married man, he shouldn't be acting like this." She looked up at the doctor. "And this is _not_ effecting my judgement over him. We have been maintaining a strictly professional relationship."

Liar.

The timer trilled, signalling that the session had come to an end. Feeling a huge wave of relief wash over her, Lisbon stood to her feet and brushed off that awkward imaginary dust from her pants.

Holding a hand out to Dr. Logan, she forced herself to smile. "Thank you, Dr. Logan."

The doctor smiled. "See you next week, Agent Lisbon."

Her smile faltering slightly, Lisbon firmly gave the doctor's hand a shake and bid her farewell. Sadly, it wasn't the type of farewell she had been wishing that it were. Taking a peppermint off of the doctor's desk, she stepped out and started towards the elevators. Martin had given her the day off, for some reason, and despite having nothing else better to do, she felt the sudden urge to go for a jog. She would only have to run by her apartment real quick to change.

It took the elevator forever to come to her floor, and it took even longer it seemed to get to the ground floor. When the elevator dinged, signalling its appropriate destination, the doors opened up and Lisbon gladly stepped out from within the metal box.

Digging her hands into her pockets to find her car keys, she started towards the parking lot. When she was about to reach the windowed doors, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Pausing with her hand on the handle, she merely looked over her shoulder and groaned.

The devil, Patrick Jane.

"Hello to you too, Teresa." Sometimes she wished she could just run away from him without causing a scene. But it would cause too much attention to herself.

"What do you want, Jane?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I was in the neighbourhood…"

"Cut the crap, you live in Malibu."

He leaned against the wall and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Very true, my dear, but I came here to inquire whether or not you would wish to go out to lunch with me."

"No."

Jane smiled. "But Teresa, I drove all the way from Malibu just to see you."

"I don't care."

Pretending to be hurt at her statement, his hand flew to his chest in mock horror. "Why so harsh? I come here, out of the goodness of my heart, and offer to take you out to grab a bite of lunch."

It didn't escape Lisbon that, out of the corner of her eye, she could see two women watching them and swooning over the infuriating man. It sickened her, in a sense.

"Goodness of your heart my ass," she muttered.

The corners of his eyes twitched and she stepped closer to him. "You just want to have sex with me, Jane."

He nodded. "Yes, there's that. But I would also like to eat something, as I really am quite peckish at the moment."

"Peckish?"

"Hungry."

"I know what peckish means!" she snapped, unintentionally drawing more attention to herself. Closing her eyes and leaning closer to him, she began to ask her question. "Why are you doing this? Aren't I just a woman you sleep with whenever you wish?"

Drawing his lips into a thin line, he looked up. "I thought we established that I was wrong."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "A note on my pillowcase doesn't count as you establishing anything, Jane."

Jane nodded. "Fair enough."

Just as she was about to open her mouth and say something, that was when her stomach decided to rumble. Was it really lunchtime already? Well, she guessed jogging would have to wait an hour or so.

And he merely chuckled. "Lunch it is."

* * *

><p>It had taken him an extra seven and a half minutes after her stomach rumbled for him to convince her to go with him to the little Mexican restaurant a couple of blocks from her apartment. And after her stomach had rumbled a few more times, she caved in. They were also getting strange looks from bystanders of the CBI ground floor, and Lisbon didn't appreciate that.<p>

She had seemed uncomfortable at first, as she apparently didn't want to be around him. He decided that he would have to remedy that.

So, as they were looking over their menus, Jane decided that he ought to strike up some form of conversation. Lowering the menu from his line of sight, be reached out with his leg and gently pushed the tip of his shoe into Lisbon's shin. She jumped at the sudden touch.

"What the hell?" She lowered her menu.

Jane smiled. "How was your time with the shrink?"

She was also quite tense, Jane could tell by the stiffness in her shoulders. He also knew that this was her shrink day, as he had been there when Martin had ordered her to go to sessions until Dr. Logan signed off on her.

"Ah, unnerving I see."

Across the able, Jane saw Lisbon readjust her grip on her menu and hold it over her face as if to read it. "It was fine," she mumbled.

He didn't believe her.

Just as he was about to challenge her, the waitress came up to them and asked for what they wanted to order for drinks. As she took their orders, she also placed the basket of freshly fried tortilla chips and a small bowl of salsa in the middle of the table. Lisbon reached over and took a couple of chips to munch on, as if to stall any possible statement Jane was about to make.

"You're translucent, my dear."

From behind the menu he saw her freeze. "I think the reason why you are so tense is because of the shrink visit." He evaluated how she quickly flipped to the other side of the menu, now looking at the various nautical-related dishes. "And I think you do not like talking about your past."

She gripped the menu tighter.

"Correct, I see."

She threw the menu down on the table, effectively throwing Jane off. He blinked at her, wondering what to say to her next. Especially what to say to keep her from doing him any physical harm was definitely needed, as he liked where his important anatomical features that defined him were.

"My past isn't relevant, Jane. Stay out of it."

He looked into her eyes. "Your necklace, it's your mother's, is it not?"

Jane knew he was being a bastard, of course he knew it was her mother's. He just wanted to get a reaction from her and the details of how she had died. And because of his straightforward statement, he watched her eyes go from normal to absolutely on fire, and not in a good way.

Her hand flew to her necklace, touching it. "It's not of your damn business!"

He looked down, feeling like a bastard once more. Lisbon was still looking at him, but she was also in the process of picking up her things and getting ready to leave him in the middle of the restaurant. Oh, that simply wouldn't do.

"Teresa." Her name on his tongue caught her attention and she paused, briefly, and turned to look at him once more. "I'm sorry."

He partially meant it.

"_I was wrong_ to make assumptions." He hadn't been making assumptions; he knew the answer to what he had been asking of her.

"Wrong?"

"Yes."

She set her stuff back down. "What did you mean by that?"

Blinking, Jane fiddled (somewhat, mostly for show) with his menu. He was about to say something when the waitress came by and placed their drinks before them. She asked if they needed a few more minutes, to which Jane told her that they did. When she was gone, he turned back to Lisbon.

"I meant that I shouldn't have said that our relationship meant nothing to me. You do mean something to me, Teresa, whether you like it our not." He evaluated her expression, and was happy with the engaging look she was giving him. "It meant something."

She seemed to sink back into her chair. "Jane…"

Refusing to say anything else, Jane looked up at Lisbon's eyes. They appeared to be enlightened, opened up due to what he had just told her. And he found that he liked the expression that graced her features.

Just as he was about to reach for her hand to pull into his, the waitress came up. With her notepad and pen in hand, she began rattling off her usual questions that she asked every patron.

And Jane felt great reluctance to pull away from the warmth of Lisbon's hand.

* * *

><p>After lunch, Jane had taken Lisbon back to her apartment. He originally planned to take her back to the CBI for her to pick up her car, but she told him she'd bring it home in the morning providing that he took her to work in the morning. He, obviously, didn't say no to that. One does not turn down an invitation of driving a pretty woman to work in the morning.<p>

He thought about asking her about her time spent in the shrink's office, but thought against it. Instead he took finding a movie from her weak stash of DVD's and putting it in to the new system. She sat down beside him, a bit away from him, but beside him nonetheless.

After about forty-five minutes into the movie, he looked over at Lisbon and saw her leaning against the arm of the couch, eyes closed and lightly snoring. Smiling at her, he slowly scooted closer to her and wrapped his arms around her petite body to pull into his. When she was propped up against him, he wrapped his arm loosely around her waist.

They finished the movie like that, him holding her body to his. And they stayed that way until about four in the afternoon when Lisbon began to stir.

At first, she was dazed. She didn't know why she was snuggled up to a warm, male body. After she had blinked the sleep from her eyes, it came to register in her mind that it was all Jane's doing, as he had to have been the one to have moved over. She thought about pushing him away from her and telling him off, but she decided against it and snuggled back into him and sighed.

Despite what her common sense was telling her, she liked being in this moment. In his arms, she felt warm and safe. At this moment, being with him didn't feel wrong.

Sighing, she reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Honestly, she was surprised by her own actions, but felt no guilt at this moment. Not averting her gaze, she untangled herself from his body and moved away from the couch to begin dinner. As she took out the frozen beef to set in the microwave, she looked over at him once more.

No, not at all.

* * *

><p>When Jane felt his eyelids begin to flutter, he smelt cheese and beef merging together. Cracking one eye open and looking in the direction of the kitchen, he saw Lisbon behind the stove, a spatula in her hand as she flipped a beef patty onto a hamburger bun.<p>

Stretching, he smiled and stood. Making his way towards Lisbon, he leaned against the counter. He could tell she knew he was there, as her gaze flickered to him as she began to lay the condiments on the burger.

"Did you make me one?" he asked, more so playfully than seriously.

She nodded, which surprised him. "Yeah, it just has cheese on it though."

Jane smiled. "I do rather like cheese, Teresa, thank you."

In return, Lisbon turned and smiled to him. She reached over and picked up a small plastic plate and handed it to him. Sure enough, there was a cheesed patty within a bun upon it. He would rather have Monterrey Jack, but American suited him just fine.

As he took the plate, he looked at her, seeing her soft features gaze at him in near-awe. He didn't quite understand it, but it gave him a flood of warmth flush through his body. When he smiled back in return, she looked down and finished with her cheeseburger before heading back to the couch to eat. All he did was put some lettuce atop his cheese and squirt on some mustard before he followed her.

When they finished eating their food, in silence, she set her plate down on the small coffee table and folded her hands in her lap. He watched her closely and followed her actions, sans the folding his hands over his lap.

"This should feel wrong," she started. "But it doesn't anymore."

His gaze was fully on her. "Deep down, I know this is wrong, but I also feel as if it's the right thing to do."

When her gaze met his, he knew what she meant. Well, he did once she had started talking, but he could see the absolute sincerity in her eyes now.

"Even though I am going against all what I hold to be –."

Jane didn't let her finish her sentence. He moved away from his spot on the couch and cradled her face in his hands. Without seeking any sort of approval, his lips met hers in a tender kiss. He pulled away slowly, revelling in being close to her and enjoying the warmth spreading through him once more.

"But this feels right," she finished.

Their lips met once more, this time in a more forceful kiss that had Lisbon being pressed into the back of the couch and her hands reaching up to tangle into his curls. In return, he buried his hand into her hair, tugging so that her mouth would automatically open in a silent gasp. This, he took, as an invitation to push his tongue into her mouth to tangle along with hers in a slow, erotic dance.

Slowly, her hands moved from their place in his hair and came to rest at his sides, her fingertips pressing in. Briefly, he pulled away from her and pressed a chaste kiss on the corner of her mouth before pushing his lips more firmly against hers once more. Instinctively, her arms wound tighter around his body and pulled him closer to her. Being this close to her body made him feel the warmth that was so distinctly Teresa Lisbon, and he loved it.

It was blissfully intoxicating his senses.

**It had to get further along, and here we go!**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Long time no read? Well, after the last two extremely busy weeks, I have decided that I'll be able to (maybe) update more regularly! Just a little heads up, I'm in the midst of packing my things back into boxes as I'm about to move again! Whee!**

**Thank everyone who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! :D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist, sadly. **

Chapter Twelve

**January 29 – 30, 2003**

When the sun peeked through the curtains, Jane felt the warm body he shared his bed with curl into his own, her hand splayed out against his chest. Without putting much thought into his actions, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her there, listening to her hum in approval. He pulled her closer to him and ran a hand absentmindedly through her hair, feeling her wiggle alongside his body.

Feeling her shift in his arms, he was not surprised to feel her lips press against the corner of his mouth. Her hand that had been on his chest slowly began a descent down to his belly, swirling around his navel. She shifted again, nuzzling his ear and pressing a soft kiss behind it.

"Good morning, Patrick," she whispered into his ear.

He moaned. "Mornin', Angela."

Instead of replying to him, she pushed him over to the side and moved over him, straddling his hips. Smirking, Angela leaned down, her hair falling over their faces as her lips brushed against his. She leaned back and pressed her fingertips into his chest, smiling down at him before she leaned back down, kissing him more forcefully.

Reaching up, Jane dragged his fingers through his wife's hair, revelling in the softness of it. His fingers stopped their dragging and cradled the back of her head, angling it to give him better access to the inside of her mouth.

Just as he was about to reach for the straps of his wife's negligee to drag down her arms, his cell phone rung from the end table. Groaning at the interruption, he pushes Angela slightly to the side and reaches for the phone, flipping it open and answering it.

"Hello." He tries to make it sound like he really does not wish to be on the phone at the moment, hoping that the person on the other end will understand that they interrupted something.

"_Jane."_ He was surprised to hear Lisbon's voice on the other end, usually it was either Martin or Simmons who tried to summon him to help with the CBI at odd times of the day.

"_We have a new case, how long until you can get to Santa Monica?"_

Looking down at his wife, who peered up at him with an annoyed gaze as she toyed with part of her negligee, he spoke into the phone with a sigh. "About two hours."

"_Jane? Two hours?"_

She sounded disappointed, and he really didn't like hearing that tone from her. "Bye, Lisbon, I'll see you in two hours." And he hit the little red "END" button and looked back down at his wife, who smiled at him.

"Let's make the most of our two hours," she said as her hand buried into his curls.

He smirked against her mouth. "We shall."

* * *

><p>It took Jane three hours before he eventually stumbled upon the crime scene, and Lisbon was furious. Mostly because Martin had been constantly coming up to her and demanding whether or not Jane had arrived. Obviously, she had to tell him no. So when Jane appeared, in the midst of flattening out his hair, Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her hip out to the side, to display obvious irritability.<p>

"Good morning!" he said cheerfully.

Lisbon narrowed her eyes, not liking his chipper attitude. "You said two hours and it's been three, Jane."

Smiling at her, he leaned in closer. "Traffic was heavy, Teresa."

She knew that was false as he lived within driving distance of Santa Monica, unlike her. As she was about to call him out on it, Lisbon heard Simmons calling her over, no doubt wanting to know how she's held the crowd back interrupted her.

Simmons most likely wanted to know whether or not Jane had arrived yet, as she assumed that Martin had been asking as well.

Turning her body around to look at Simmons, she gestured towards Jane and started towards the more senior agent. He looked over her shoulder, seeing Jane, and nodding. It was impossible to not miss the relieved smile that appeared on his face at the sight of the wily consultant.

"Do you know why he's late?" Simmons asked once she got close enough.

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders and mumbled her answer, "Traffic, he said."

Simmons chuckled, "You don't believe him?"

Shooting her higher up and annoyed glance, she re-crossed her arms over her chest and looked back at the man in question. Jane stood several feet away, arms clasped together behind his back and occasionally bobbing up and down. He briefly caught Lisbon's eye and winked at her, the corners of his mouth crooking upwards.

"Is there something going on between you two?" Simmons suddenly asked.

"No!"

She cursed herself after speaking, knowing that she spoke too soon. Simmons didn't stop gazing at her questioningly. He was quite close with Flores, the late agent before Cho. And she had a feeling that Flores knew all along about how she and Jane were towards each other. She had a hunch that Flores may have told Simmons of what he thought, as the two frequently dined together for lunch and occasionally dinner during overnight cases.

"Well," Simmons began, "I better go talk to Martin to make sure he knows that Jane's here."

And with that, he left Lisbon alone.

* * *

><p>For that day, Lisbon refused to talk to him. Actually, for the most part, she refused to acknowledge him. Her nonchalant behaviour towards him was quite alarming because he could usually get some sort of reaction out of her.<p>

Around five, he had offered to take her out to dinner. As he assumed she would as soon as the question left his lips, she declined his offer without even giving it the slightest thought beforehand. So, a little after five, he departed back to Malibu.

Angela had been surprised by his sudden arrival at home, assuming that he would have gone out with the team and spend the night in town like he usually did. Well, actually, he usually met up with a woman of sorts and slept with her as a one-night-stand. But tonight, he felt no desire to do so. Therefore, he returned back to his Malibu home to surprise his wife and child.

Charlotte was delighted.

When he opened the door to the house, she was instantly before him and hugging onto his legs, asking him all sorts of questions. In a response to her behaviour, he grasped onto her underarms and hoisted her upwards and let her rest on his hip.

"Did you catch the bad guy, daddy?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Not yet, sweetie."

Ever since he started working with the CBI, Charlotte loved hearing stories and tales about the men (and women) he helped them arrest for various heinous crimes. Of course, he'd give Charlotte the more fantastical versions of those stories rather than the more gruesome details.

"When are you gonna catch him?"

He kissed her on the nose. "Soon, soon."

Knowing she was about to ask more questions, he placed one of his hands on the middle of her back and began to spin her around. It was fun, to interact this way with his daughter. And he also revelled in the ability to make her giggle with so much glee that her joy became instantly contagious.

"Patrick…" Angela's voice came from the kitchen and he turned to look at her. "Stop," she told him with a smile.

Smiling back at his wife, he set Charlotte back down on the ground. "Dinner will be ready soon, you guys."

Charlotte awed in response to her mother, as she knew that meant to go to the bathroom and wash up. She hated doing that and Jane smiled, knowing that he sometimes caught his daughter just running the water down the drain and playing around with the soap.

"No but's, young lady," Angela told Charlotte sternly. "Go wash up."

Watching Charlotte go, Angela turned to Jane and smiled, walking up to him. Instantly he felt the warmth enter the room as she gazed at him with smoldering eyes. It was different for her to look at him like that. Finally coming up to him, she placed her hands on his chest and began to unbutton the first two fastens to his shirt.

"Have you ever," she punctuated her statement by placing a firm kiss to his lips, "thought about having another baby?"

His eyes opened in surprise. Sure, they talked about it, but it was a long time ago. Charlotte had been no more than two years old when they originally were thinking about giving her a sibling. But due to financial issues, they decided against it and put it off to later on.

"Ange…"

"We can do it, Patrick."

And with that statement, he pulled back to look into her eyes and that's when he saw what she really wanted. Angela thought their marriage was in trouble, and she had for a while, and to remedy that she thought it would be best to try for another baby. In all actuality, Jane would like to have another child, but not now. Things would be too complicated if they were to have another baby.

"Angela," he said softly. "Now's not a good time."

"What do you mean?" she asked, stepping back from him.

He sighed, not knowing how to say what he was about to say easily. "You think our marriage is in trouble, Angela, and you think it will be saved by having another child."

Blinking, Angela pulled even more away from him and her cheeks began to redden. Her hands clenched into fists, but she let them loose and scratched the back of her head before returning to the kitchen. Jane watched her go, suddenly feeling guilty over the awkwardness and strain he just brought forth once more.

They ate in silence, sans Charlotte's innocent rambling about her day at school.

* * *

><p>Leaning against the wall for support, Lisbon sighed. Extremely fatigued, she wished that a bathtub were available to her rather than a shower. She wanted a nice and long soak in a tub to make her feel wonderful after a long day of crowd control duty.<p>

And chasing that guy down that Jane ostracised, as Simmons was in no condition to chase down suspects given his current body mass.

Her muscles in her shoulder hurt horribly to the point where she didn't want to move hardly at all. She knew it was going to take a lot of effort to make her way over to the bed despite the small distance, so she slid down to the floor.

Placing her head against the wall, she closed her eyes and sighed. She needed a nice long vacation, she decided. March was a good time of year for that, so she ought to talk to Martin about taking some time off. Smiling and humming at the delight of her decision, she leaned further into the wall.

Within a few minutes, just as she was about to fall asleep, Lisbon heard the sound of a knock at the door. Furrowing her brow and groaning as she stood, she walked over to the door and opened it without looking into the little peephole. She already knew who it would be on the other side, so there was no need to add to the pain and stand on her toes to look to see whom it was.

As expected, it was Jane.

"Good evening, Teresa," he said to her.

She leaned against the doorframe with a wince. "I'm not really feeling too well, Jane."

His gaze softened. "How so?" he asked.

Almost shrugging her shoulders, and catching herself, Lisbon tossed her head slightly to the side. "It's nothing, really."

He continued to look at her. "It has to do with you tackling Kyle Greene, doesn't it."

It wasn't a question, Lisbon concluded quickly. He had been there once she set off after the man and tackled him, causing her shoulder to directly hit against the concrete ground.

So, instead of lying to him, Lisbon told him the truth. "Yeah, it's because of tackling Greene."

Jane drew his lips into a thin line and she found herself wanting to ask why he was here. She wasn't in the mood for sex and nor was her body, clearly he would notice this. Unless, of course, he had nowhere else to go.

Softening her gaze, she moved a little bit off of the doorframe. "Why are you here, Patrick?"

She didn't call him by his first name very often, but when she did she could tell that it had a direct effect on him. And by just hearing his name leave her lips, his eyes had snapped up to meet hers.

"I need you."

Her gaze faltered. "I just said that—."

"I know."

He reached for her and brushed his fingertips down the side of her arm. "And we don't have to do…_that_," he told her.

Nodding, she moved away from the doorframe, allowing him into the motel room. Without a word, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, Jane's hands cupped her face and he leaned in, pressing a long and soft kiss to her lips.

He pulled away from her, his hands running down the sides of her neck until his fingertips reached the buttons of her shirt. Slowly, he unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it off of her shoulders, taking the time to brush his fingertips over the skin as it was exposed. With much grace, he turned her body around and ran his hands, more firmly this time, down her back. She shivered, feeling goose bumps prickle out down the length of her spine.

Feeling him lean in, Lisbon felt his breath against the shell of her ear. "Better?" he asked.

With a shaky sigh, Lisbon nodded her affirmation. "Yeah."

Behind her, Lisbon heard a distinct low rumble coming from Jane's shirt. Usually that meant one thing – sex. Despite that usual tell, Jane's hands still smoothed over her shoulders, fingers cupping the skin and digging in.

As soon as he had dug his fingers into her sore muscles, she gasped and sat more upright. The action had caused a wave of pain to move throughout her body and she found herself moaning. Knowing that he had accidentally hurt her, Jane's hands stilled, waiting a few moments before he started up again. This time he kept things slow and controlled but effective all the same. She was glad for this, as she needed something gentler than what he had originally started out doing.

When the tension started to leave her shoulders, she felt his breath on her ear once more. It didn't take long for his breath to leave its spot and begin a trail down the side of her neck. Hearing another low rumble in the back of his throat, Lisbon felt Jane's hands slide down her back once more and grip her hips. Without a word, he pulled her close until she was flush up against the front of his body.

Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, working his way up. Pausing at her jaw, Jane began to layer multiple kisses to one spot, one hand begin its trek upwards towards her breasts. Just before his hand could reach its desired destination, Lisbon intertwined her hand in his, stopping the journey.

Against her neck, Jane groaned his disagreement with her actions and began trailing the second hand up to her, which she stopped as well. Lifting his head away from her neck, Jane peered down at her.

"Not tonight."

Nodding, he leaned in and nuzzled the side of her neck with his nose. Shifting his head, he ghosted his lips down the side of her neck until he reached the juncture point. He placed his mouth there, teeth grazing the flesh as he sucked on the skin.

"Patrick!"

With a pop as his mouth left her skin, he smirked and pulled her closer to him as he started towards the bed. Her hands left his and he trailed his back towards her hips, grasping onto them as he lifted her onto the bed. Wordlessly, he undid his own shirt and threw it on the ground. His shoes, socks, and pants followed his shirt as slid onto the bed beside her. And without much further ado, he undid the remainder of her garments until she was left in nothing but her panties.

Holding her close, Jane pulled the top layer of a blanket over them. By the time he looked down, he saw that she had already fallen asleep in his arms. With a smile, he let slumber overtake him.

* * *

><p>Angela didn't know what to think of her husband anymore. She knew he had been having affairs for at least eighteen months now, as she wasn't stupid in the slightest. He wasn't the only one that was able to see things.<p>

With a plaintive sigh, she looked back at her sleeping daughter, Charlotte. Sometimes she did this, go into her daughter's room at night, and just watch her. Charlotte was the one good thing that seemed to come out of her and Patrick's marriage, because now there was nothing but lies and cheats.

She wanted him to stop going to television and to stop seeing his clients. Around Christmas she told him this, but he merely informed her that they would lose everything. And the last thing she really wanted to lose was their Malibu home, a perk that came with the lies and deceit.

Well, hopefully she could get him to leave the CBI, she thought. Nothing good came from there, as long as Teresa Lisbon worked there. No, she wasn't blind and she knew that her husband was screwing the young agent. She was almost confident that he was right now, as he left to "catch a break on the case" at such an untimely hour. No, there was no break; he was no doubt having sexual relations with the younger woman.

Leaning into her chair, a teardrop began to roll down the length of her cheek.

**I'm quite hungry right now, as it is supper time. Bye for now! **


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Quick, for those who have seen the finale: WASN'T IT AMAZING?**

**Ahem, moving on. I have successfully moved! Granted, I'm kind of living with my quasi-boyfriend at the moment and will continue to do such for the next month...hopefully I'll get things sorted out a bit more soon. **

**I would like to thank those who were patient with how it took a bit longer for me to update this chapter. And I would also like to thank those who read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed! You all are amazing!**

**Also, those who read "Blueberries," thank you so much! :)**

**Miss Donnie: Thank you so much! And thank you for reading "Blueberries!"**

**Evonna: I'm really glad that you enjoy reading this! Thank you! **

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own The Mentalist. Bruno Heller, the king, does. **

Chapter Thirteen

**March 10, 2003**

It was calm and spring was swiftly approaching.

And Teresa Lisbon was on vacation.

Well, sort of. Lately she had felt waves of severe fatigue overcome her body and the sense of an illness coming. So, without much further ado, she took a few days off to recuperate within the confines of her apartment. Because the day before had been a Sunday, she already hadn't done anything the day before.

When she had called in an hour ago, Martin sounded a bit stressed, (partially because she heard Jane on the other end, talking loudly about something irrelevant) but informed her that Cho could take care of everything she usually worked on. Also known as, Cho was on crowd control duty.

A nice change, really.

With a groan, Lisbon rolled over onto her back and brought her hands over her abdomen. She'd been feeling these cramps originating from her lower abdomen since Friday, and it was rapidly starting to become unsettling. Usually it meant that her "visitor" would be coming soon, but it was usually gone by now.

Wincing as another cramp struck her, Lisbon moved off of her bed and started towards the bathroom. The last wave of discomfort left her feeling nauseated and as if she were about to lose her meagre breakfast.

Groaning again, she lifted the toilet seat and hunched over it, feeling her stomach reject its contents. When she felt that she was done, Lisbon reached for a square of toilet tissue and brought it to her face. Wiping the bile away and flushing the toilet, she stood and glanced into the mirror. She was pale and underneath the fluorescent lights of her bathroom, she looked nearly transparent.

Yet again she felt a cramp rake through her body, causing her to double over and clutch towards her bedroom. Just as her hand reached up to flick the fan to push the smell of vile vomit out of the room, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing.

Perking her head up in alert, she slowly shifted her weight and started to reach for the end table, which contained a glock. Carefully, she opened up the drawer and pulled out the gun and began to quietly walk towards her bedroom door, gun ready.

"Teresa?"

Groaning and tossing her head back briefly, she wished that it would be acceptable to shoot Patrick Jane just this once. She wasn't feeling well (obviously) and he was now taking advantage of the key he_ took_ from her three weeks ago.

Letting her hand fall to her side, gun still in hand, she pushed the door open and stepped through the doorframe, giving Jane one of her "I hate you, go away" looks. At the sight of her, the smile fell from his face and he walked up to her, his face full of concern.

"Teresa…"

He reached for her, his hand resting on her forehead to gauge her temperature. "Feels all right," he mumbled, eyes moving over her body in evaluation. "How bad do you feel?"

Lisbon shifted her weight distribution and tossed her head slightly to the side. "I feel sick," she told him.

"Your symptoms, Teresa."

Furrowing her brow, but wincing almost instantly, Lisbon recalled her symptoms. Nausea and vomiting, stomach cramps, and fatigue. Her body was also sore in general. The soreness came with the job as did the fatigue, but the nausea not so much unless she sees maggots nibbling at dead flesh.

Oh.

Just the thought of the maggots in her mind wiggling about between dying tissue and eating it caused her stomach to lurch and for her to drop the gun on the ground. She all but ran to the kitchen sink and felt her stomach heave upwards as acidic bile emitted from her body.

Her entire form was shuddering as she tried to expel bodily fluids, but failed to do so. Behind her, she felt Jane's hand on the middle of her back and the other pulling her hair away. Coughing into the sink, her hands braced onto the countertop around it.

"Shh," Jane soothed her.

Jane's hand left from its place behind her back as he turned around and began pulling out a cup and a water bottle from the refrigerator. Truthfully, she'd like something with a bit more flavour to it, but she had no other thing to drink unless one counted spoiled orange juice.

Feeling the sensations of vomiting slowly begin to dissipate away, Lisbon pulled away from the sink and caught Jane's eyes. Slowly, he poured the contents of the water bottle into the glass and handed it to her. Gratefully, she took it from him and took a couple of slow sips before she once again met his gaze.

"Teresa…"

Some how she knew what he was going to ask her.

Putting the glass down on the counter, she shook her head in denial. Now she felt insecure that he was wondering the same questions that she found her mind wandering on about. She had never pictured herself to be a mother, ever. Not after what had happened with her own mother, she didn't want to risk the chance of her dying in the field and leaving her child alone.

"I don't know," she told him.

Slowly, Jane nodded his head. "I'll be right back."

Turning, Jane left the kitchen area and headed for the door, plucking his keys up from the table. Lisbon watched him go, her arms wrapped around her petite body as shivers wracked her frame.

She couldn't possibly be.

* * *

><p>Jane felt tense as he moved around the convenience store. When Angela had been pregnant with Charlotte, Jane had merely come home to her with a wide smile and a plastic stick in her hand. With Lisbon, however, he had to participate in discovering whether or not she was with child.<p>

"Can I help you?" a female employee asked him upon entering the section woman's section.

Glancing at her and drawing his lips into a thin line, he smiled sheepishly. "No, I think I have found what I am looking for."

The employee woman smiled. "Congratulations, Mr. Jane."

Rather than continuing on towards the other side of the aisle, he paused and turned towards the woman. "I beg your pardon?"

The woman fumbled with her hands. "I've seen you on TV, and I can't help but notice you in this aisle." She looked at him, slightly embarrassed. "You and your wife are expecting?"

Immediately blanching, Jane shook his head. "Uh, no, it's not for my wife." The woman's smile began to falter. "It's for a friend."

Smiling in an embarrassed manner, the woman recovered. "That's very nice of you, Mr. Jane."

In return, he gave her a quick smile and started towards the other end of the aisle. He paused before the shelves of boxes and quickly plucked one box up with two pregnancy tests within it. Already reaching behind into his jacket for his wallet, he turned around to face the employee woman once more.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

A blush rose up on the young woman's cheeks. "I was wondering if you could tell me how my mother is doing right now." He raised his eyebrow at her. "She's dead, you see."

Jane blinked a couple of times before he let her question sink in. She was asking him to give her a cold reading on her deceased mother. He could do it no problem.

Closing his eyes dramatically and setting the pregnancy test to the side, he reached for the woman's hand. "What is your name?" he asked her.

"L-Lucy!"

"Lucy, your mother has been gone since you were a child, y-yes?" He wanted to speed this along and get back to Lisbon as soon as possible.

He had let his voice waver for a second, taking the hitch in her breath as a confirmation. "She misses you, Lucy. She misses you so much and loves you so."

Peeking one eye open, he saw the glassy stare of Lucy the employee looking up at the ceiling. Lucy was young, maybe twenty-two at the most and no doubt trying her best to get through a community college. She was engaged, he discovered when he felt the small diamond ring against his thumb.

"Your mother is very proud of you, Lucy, and admires your ability to find such a wonderful man. She wishes that she could see you two wed in person and wants you to know that she approves. She approves, Lucy, and wants nothing more than you to live a long life with your fiancé."

Hearing a choked back sob, Jane knew that he was doing his job well. "She would also like to see you two give her grandchildren."

He felt Lucy's hand tighten in hers. "Does she know?" she asked.

Of course, she was pregnant. Meaning he was surrounded by them. Possibly.

"Yes, she knows about the child Lucy. A beautiful baby boy you are to have, and she already loves him so much."

Lucy pulled her hands away from him and caught her face with them. Before him, the young woman was a watery mess and he felt like getting away, but it also gave him a hint of satisfaction that it was a job well done.

"I-I'll r-ring you up o-o-ver here," she sniffled.

Nodding at her, Jane picked the box back up from the shelf and followed her lead towards the register in the cosmetics section. Rather than paying for it, she just merely scanned the pregnancy test and handed it back to him, free of charge.

"Thank you, Mr. Jane."

He smiled falsely. "You are more than welcome, Lucy."

* * *

><p>After waiting for thirty minutes, Lisbon was relieved to see Jane come through the door with a box in hand. Well, she was more so relieved that he hadn't left her. She wasn't quite relieved to see the daunting little box in her hands, meaning she was expected to pee on it in a matter of minutes or so. She knew that she could do it; after all, she had drunk four cups of water whilst waiting for him to return on her couch.<p>

Somewhat awkwardly, Jane handed her the box and watched her closely. Without saying a word, she took it from his grasp and walked into the bathroom a few steps away from the couch.

Looking back over her shoulder as she closed the door, she saw Jane sit down the couch, his hands clasped together in his lap as he looked downwards. In return, she shifted her eyes down and closed the door softly.

Taking a quick moment to read over the directions on the back of the box, she clumsily pulled the plastic stick from it and headed over to the toilet. Inhaling deeply and willing her nausea to go away, she preformed the test and capped it. Once done, she laid it on the bathroom countertop and washed her hands.

Clutching the knobs on the sink tightly, Lisbon closed her eyes and sighed. She shifted her footing and opened her eyes to stare at her reflection. She still looked pale, but there was a slight blush to her cheeks. A good sign, right?

Hesitantly, she took one of her hands off of the knob and brought it over to rest on her abdomen, sliding it lower until it rested just below her navel. A baby could be nestled in there, she thought. A life that is a part of her and Patrick Jane.

Looking down nervously at the test, Lisbon jumped when she heard a knock on the bathroom door followed by it opening. Jane appeared, peeking in slowly. "Uh, is everything all right?"

She tried to give him a smile, but failed to do so. Instead, she followed his eyes to where her hand rested. To anyone looking in on the outside, they'd say that she was expecting their child.

"Yeah, I have about thirty more seconds or so," she told him.

Nodding, Jane rubbed the palms of his hands on his pants and entered the room. He held her gaze for a short amount of time before he reached for the test and picked it up from its spot on the countertop. Slowly, he held it up so that he could see it. With trepidation, Lisbon moved so that her body was pressed against his, her head resting on his upper arm as he moved it around her body to rest over her hand. Closing her eyes and opening them again, she exhaled and looked at the stick in his hands. There was one little faint line evident on the little screen, indicating that she was not pregnant. With relief, Lisbon smiled and took her hand away from her belly.

"I was so –." She couldn't even finish her sentence, as Jane threw the test into the sink and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips. He pulled away quickly, a smile on his face, and mumbled something about her needing a breath mint and wanting some eggs.

He promptly left the room, looking back at her once he reached the doorframe. Once he was gone, her smile slowly began to fade. Yes, she had resigned to the fact that she doubted that she would ever have children, but this little scare got her thinking about the future.

And with Patrick Jane, she had no future.

**I know I ended it with an angsty tone to it, but it needs to be done. Lisbon needs to start having doubts about the relationship at this point. I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Now excuse me, as I have to go stop my cat from clawing at the wall decor. **


	15. Chapter Fourteen

***Looks around corner***

**Hi, long time no read? Yes, I have been absent for quite some time due to busyness and writer's block (curses!). Yes, this chapter did not want to get written one bit and fought me every time I even tried to write a sentence. Seriously, up until a few days ago Lisbon was just smearing peanut butter on bread. Days ago, I tell you! Thank you all (seriously) for all the reads, reviews, subscriptions, and favourites! :3**

**And out of curiosity, does anyone like fanfiction's new layout? I find it annoying as I don't really want to post a profile picture. Well, better break out the Prego picture...**

**Evonna - Thank you so much! Yes, Jane was a bit annoyed when he couldn't find Lisbon in her usual spot. Aren't we all when we are looking for something we like? **

**Disclaimer: No.**

Chapter Fourteen

**March 30-31, 2003**

It was Sunday, and in the Jane household, that was the day of the week to go to the supermarket and purchase the weekly necessities. Which was also code for Angela running those errands and Jane staying home with Charlotte. They were all right with these arrangements, seeing as they were routine. But for some odd reason it seemed as if Angela had returned home from the local market in a foul mood. Or a more determined one to make Jane's life miserable.

"I want you to quit," Angela said, entering the kitchen with the last supermarket bag. "We have more than enough money right now."

With a sigh, Jane looked over at his wife. This wasn't the first time Angela had asked him to stop honing in on his talents lately. "Ange, we've talked about this."

She slammed a cupboard door closed as she put away the new package of sugar. "I get a bad feeling with this, Patrick!" she exclaimed. "And I don't think it's a good example for Charlotte."

Rolling his eyes, Jane took another sip of his tea. Whenever Angela wanted him to do something, she would always bring up Charlotte's wellbeing and hope that it would manipulate him into doing what she wanted him to do.

"Besides, you know I don't let her watch you on the TV."

Setting his tea cup on the table, Jane shifted his feet and leaned forward. "I'll quit soon, I promise."

Angela turned to him, her hands on her hips. "You said that last time," she narrowed her eyes.

"Last time wasn't that long ago," he defended, as he picked up his tea again.

Jane was surprised that Angela's eyes could narrow even further. "You said that back in December, Patrick. It's almost April."

"Time flies when you're having fun." He smiled and took a sip.

For a few more moments, Angela stared at him, but turned away to finish unpacking the groceries. And out of the corner of his eye he could tell that she was still glancing over at him. He acted like a bastard, he knew, but he was right. He enjoyed his time working as a psychic and enjoyed the money more. Angela also liked the money; after all, it gave her the house they lived in and other nice things. It always annoyed him whenever she would try to get him to stop working the way he was meant to work.

She even occasionally tried to make him stop working with the police last week, saying that she worried every time he was working out in the field. Jane knew that was only partially correct, as she mostly worried about whether or not he was out bedding Agent Lisbon instead.

Which was true, he was sleeping with her.

Throwing away the last grocery bag, Angela turned to her husband with her lips drawn tightly into a thin line. "I'm going to go get Charlotte from the Charelston's."

He nodded. "Okay."

That was another reason why Angela was quite upset with him, as he had decided to take Charlotte over to her friend Wendy Charleston's house rather than watch her like he had promised. Honestly, he didn't see the harm in it. Charlotte had wanted to go over there, but Angela apparently didn't like it when Charlotte went over to a friend's house on Sundays because that was her "spend time with daddy day."

And with that, Angela left the kitchen.

* * *

><p>Smearing a glob of peanut butter on a piece of bread, Lisbon glanced over at the clock propped against the counter and the wall. It was about two in the afternoon and she had accomplished absolutely nothing. She hadn't even attended mass like she normally did on Sundays.<p>

She blames Patrick Jane.

Ever since her pregnancy scare earlier in the month, Lisbon had been adamant about seeing Jane. The few times they had had a case with him working on it, they would only exchange glances and nothing more. Well, they talked when it was necessary in order to remain civil and keep Martin from thinking that there was something between them.

With a sigh, she set the peanut butter coated knife down and pushed the two pieces of bread together. Lifting the bread to her mouth, she took a bite and furthered her thoughts. Maybe this was a good thing, not talking to Jane or seeing very little of him. Not only did her pregnancy scare make her feel less inclined to be around him, but it also opened her eyes at the idea that it wouldn't ever work for them. And that she (and his family) would most likely get hurt in the end.

What the hell had she been thinking? From the start she had known that building an affair with Patrick Jane was an idiotic idea that wouldn't play out well in the end. And what did she do? She kissed him, had sex with him, and nearly got herself pregnant with their love child.

Seriously, what the hell had she been thinking?

Groaning, she set her plate in the sink and slowly trudged over towards her beat up couch. She knew better than to get involved with a married man, and what did she do? Get involved with the asshole.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid!_

She had absolutely no future with the man, why hadn't she remembered that right away? Why couldn't she simply be strong and avoid him altogether? Well, now she is to turn over a new leaf, she decided. No more Patrick Jane.

No more.

* * *

><p>"Thank you!" Jane waved with a false cheeriness to the Charleston matriarch as he took Charlotte's hand. Once the door had closed, he looked down at her beautiful daughter and smiled, this time genuine.<p>

"Did you have a good time, Sweetheart?"

Charlotte nodded, her curls bouncing atop her head. "Yes, Daddy! Me and Wendy played with her new dollhouse!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! And the dolls were bears!"

Jane smiled and opened the door for his daughter. "Is that right?"

Charlotte nodded again, beaming up at her father. "Daddy, can I get bear-dolls too?"

Buckling her into her seat, Jane kissed her cheek. "I'm all for it."

"Can we go now?"

Seeming to weigh the options, he smiled and nodded. "I don't see why not."

"Yay!"

Closing the door and moving to the other side to open his, Jane slid in and started the engine. He knew Angela would be upset over this, as she has told him on numerous occasions that Charlotte has enough toys (and dollhouses). But the small little fact that Angela continuously kept on forgetting that it was not her money, but his. Therefore, he had the right to do as he pleased with it. And if he wanted to spend the money on his daughter, then he would most definitely spend the money on his daughter. So, without much further ado, he put the car in gear and started off towards the local strip mall in hopes of finding these bear-dolls that Charlotte seemed to desire.

Little did he know that in the midst of searching for the bear-dolls, (Sylvanian Families, is what they're apparently called) Charlotte would set her eyes on numerous toys around them. And much to her joy, he bought her not only a large bear, (that wasn't a doll) but also a new dollhouse, countless furniture, and a new family (bunnies, actually. Not bears).

Angela was going to be pissed off.

As he loaded the newly purchased goods in the back of his car, Charlotte handed him a small bag that she pulled from the cart and hugged the lower part of his body. Smiling, he patted her head and heard her mumble a "thank you, Daddy."

"Let's get you home. Wouldn't want to waste another moment of the day when you could be setting up your new dollhouse!"

Charlotte beamed up at him and quickly settled herself into her seat, waiting only for him to buckle her up. And for the rest of the ride home, she continued to be jittery as she anticipated playing with her new family, talking about it in an excited manner until he pulled into their driveway. Upon cutting the engine, Charlotte quickly unbuckled herself and stepped out of the car. With a smile, Jane opened the trunk and started pulling out some of the bags. Charlotte picked them up and started towards the house with an even bigger smile than earlier plastered onto her face.

Holding onto one of the big bags in one hand and the keys in the other, he started after Charlotte to open the door for her. But when he was about to stick the key in the hole, it was wrenched open and he was face to face with Angela, who looked down at her daughter and then at her husband. Her gaze, in the end, wound up on the packages in their hands.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Before he was able to say anything, Charlotte piped up, "Daddy got me S-Silveranian Family, Mommy!"

Furrowing her eyebrows, Angela moved away from the door to allow Charlotte to enter, but blocked it once her husband came up to the door. "What did you do?"

He shrugged and readjusted his hold on the bag. "When I picked her up from the Charleston's, she expressed –."

"Patrick, you should have told her no."

"Why? She's my daughter."

Angela sighed. "And mine as well. I don't want you spoiling her…"

Looking over his shoulder, and no doubt seeing the giant plush bear in the backseat, she sighed. "You got her a giant bear, too?"

"It's my money."

"Our money, Patrick."

He shrugged her off and started to move towards the interior of the house. "I've been making it. Therefore it's mine."

"Patrick, stop."

He did stop. And he also turned to his wife. "No, you stop. Why do you need to get upset every time I bring Charlotte home with something?"

Angela gestured to the car. "Because you insist on buying her too expensive and too superfluous things! She doesn't need a giant bear! She doesn't need all this…stuff!"

"I want her to have it!" he defended.

"And I don't want her thinking she can have everything!"

"Why can't she?"

Angela put her hands on her hips. "Because this is real life, Patrick. You can't have everything! And I don't want her _growing up_ thinking that she can have everything and that her daddy will get her anything she wants at any waking moment!"

"She's almost six-years-old, Ange!"

"And too old for –."

"Mommy?" The two adults halted their argument at the sound of their child. "Did me and Daddy do a bad thing?"

Turning to Jane, Angela gave him a sour look before she walked over to her daughter and knelt before her. "No, you didn't do a bad thing. Daddy should have asked me first before buying you all these things."

"Are they going back to the store?" Charlotte's eyes started to well up with tears.

"No," Jane said.

Angela shot him a look over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes. No, she didn't plan on making Charlotte return the new toys, but she wanted to make sure that Charlotte knew that she was not to ask her father for new stuff like this without asking her permission.

"Sweetie, go up to your room. Daddy and I are going to talk."

"You're going to yell at him, aren't you?" Charlotte started to cry.

"No, I'm not going to yell at him. I promise."

Angela kissed the top of Charlotte's head and patted her shoulder. Muttering a soft "off you go," Charlotte started to slowly climb the stairs towards her bedroom. Angela waited until she heard the soft _click_ of her door before she turned back on her husband. Narrowing her eyes once more, she brushed past him and Jane instantly knew that he was in trouble, to an extent, with her.

"I'm not going to yell at you, Patrick."

He nodded. "That's good, that you didn't lie to our daughter."

Anger started to rise in Angela's eyes, he could tell, but she quickly snuffed it out. "But that still won't change how I feel about this. I have told you _many_ times that you _can't_ buy her everything! It's only going to get worse and I really don't want to deal with a spoiled teenager in about eight or so years."

Looking down at his shoes, Jane drew another trick out of his metaphorical hat. "I do not want her to grow up like us."

Returning his gaze up to his wife's Jane noted how her expression softened. "She isn't, Patrick. She is just growing up to be the beautiful little girl that we always wanted. Just a little more spoiled than we would have liked."

* * *

><p>It was well past midnight when she decided on going to bed that night and she knew that she had come to the decision to break things off with Jane. She'd do tomorrow, she decided. Well, today, as it would not be best if she were to break it off on the first of April. Knowing Jane, he'd act like it was a joke and come back to her like a pesky weed.<p>

Settling into her bed and reaching out to turn off the lamp on her bedside table, Lisbon heard her phone begin to vibrate. With a groan, she picked it off the table and flipped it open.

"Lisbon," she grumbled.

"_Teresa."_

She froze, not really having expected it to be him calling her. She'd expected that it would be Martin calling her to inform her of a new case and wishing for her presence. But no, it was Patrick Jane.

"It's late," she replied.

"_I know,"_ he said softly.

Sitting up and straightening her spine, she held the phone tighter to her ear. "Are you okay?"

Where the hell did this concern come from? She was supposed to be getting him out of her life!

He sounded preoccupied. _"Yeah, I'm fine. How are you?"_

"I'm fine."

"_Upset with me still, I realize."_

"Jane…"

"_Really upset, I take it. You haven't called me Jane in awhile." _

"You just woke me up!" she tried to defend herself.

There was no delay in his next phrase. _"No, you've been awake."_

"No."

"_Why are you trying to argue with me, Teresa?"_

She hesitated and listened to him sigh on the other end of the phone. _"You don't want us to continue."_

"No, I don't."

He sighed again and she felt a pang hit her in the heart. Despite all of the coaching she has done these past few weeks, she still found it hard to try and stop this…relationship and affair. It made her feel weak and sad.

"_It would be for the best, wouldn't it?"_

"Yeah, it would."

Clutching onto the cell phone tighter, she knew her voice began to waver. "I'll see you around, I guess. "

"_You're sweet."_

Biting her lip and diverting her eyes, she felt a teardrop roll down the apple of her cheek. With her breath hitched in her throat, she simply told him, "Goodnight, Patrick."

He didn't reply to her on the other end, but she did hear the soft click followed by silence. As soon as she was sure he was gone, she let her hand fall from its place by her ear and she let the tears fall more freely. Her relationship with him had affected her more than she had known from the start, and she found it strangely hard to part her ways with him.

Inhaling sharply, she set the phone down and turned off the light once more. Settling down under the blankets, she closed her eyes in a desperate plea to sleep. But sleep would not come to her, as it avoided her as if telling her that it detested her decision.

"_You're sweet."_

His voice still rang in her head clearly like a bell.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Thank you everyone who read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed! **

**Usul87 - I ought to be thanking you for reading, enjoying, and leaving a wonderful review. Thank you! **

**Cat1030 - Thank you so much! I hope this update is to your liking. **

**Evonna - For some reason I didn't feel like I ought to have them break it off in person, so the phone worked. I thank _you_ for reading and enjoying it. **

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own The Mentalist.**

Chapter Fifteen

**April 21, 2003**

Flipping the crime scene tape over her head, Lisbon continued walking onto the scene. From what she had heard from Cho, who had called her rather than Martin, it was a gruesome murder. And she also heard that Jane suspected that it was the husband. After all, it was a murder after a messy divorce. Taking a deep breath, she stood before Martin with her hands dug into her pockets.

"Sir," she nodded in acknowledgement.

Martin turned to look at his former rookie and tipped his head. "Did Cho give you all the details?"

"Yes, Sir," Lisbon responded.

Nodding his head, Martin turned and gestured over for someone to come over. Looking around him, Lisbon watched as the medical examiner stood up from the body of the dead woman and walk over to where they stood. A rather older man with a balding head, Doctor Steiner still proved to be good at his work.

"Agent Martin, good morning," Steiner said.

"What have you got for us, Doctor Steiner?"

Doctor Steiner looked over at the deceased and sighed. "Her death was no more than five hours ago and caused by a blunt object. Pity, she was a pretty thing." The medical examiner then turned back until his gaze settled on Lisbon. His eyes instantly brightened and his face seemed to flush a little.

Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "Thank you for your time, Doctor," she said.

The medical examiner's ears tinged a brighter colour than they had been previously and he bowed down a bit at the knees before he started heading back to the body. As he walked away, Lisbon followed his form with her eyes, obviously perturbed by his reaction towards her. Strange, she thought, as she started to walk away.

But as she was about to walk away from the medical examiner, she heard a brief "Oh no," from Martin and turned to look back at Steiner. Jane had started over towards the medical examiner, his eyebrows drawn together to form the pensive look on his face as he knelt down and whispered something in Steiner's ear.

She turned back to Martin briefly. "What's wrong?"

Martin rubbed the side of his face, perturbed by what Jane was most likely saying to Steiner. "Those two…don't like each other."

"How so?" she asked.

Martin shrugged. "I don't really know. That case, the one where you were sick, Steiner filed a hefty complaint against Jane."

"Ah," Lisbon said as she saw Steiner stand up suddenly out of the corner of her eye. Quite abruptly, if she may add.

"I beg your pardon?" Steiner asked, his voice raised a few octaves.

Jane smiled and made a gesture towards Lisbon. Groaning, Lisbon started her way towards the poor coroner and the wily consultant to break up whatever pissing contest (of a sorts) they were about to partake in.

"Jane!" she yelled after the consultant. "Leave him alone!"

Jane, still grinning from ear to ear due to whatever he had just said, looked up at Lisbon. And at her appearance, she watched as the smile slowly moved down Jane's face to a more stoic expression. Strange, she thought, but nonetheless annoying.

"Why Teresa, you are upset that I was defending your honour?" he teased.

She stood before them both, her arms crossing over her chest. "He wasn't doing anything."

The corners of Jane's mouth went up in a small smirk. "Oh, he was doing plenty." He gestured towards Steiner. "He was shamefully imagining you lying upon his bed naked tonight. Inappropriate behaviour for a government official."

"You're embarrassing him," she said. "Myself included."

Jane placed his hand over his heart and cocked his head to the side. "You aren't even the slightest bit flattered?"

She opened her eyes. "No."

Slowly, his hand moved down his chest to rest at his side once more. "Uh, Teresa, may I have a word with you by the car?"

"No."

Jane took a couple of steps towards her, bringing his face closer towards her. "Yes."

* * *

><p>Jane leaned against one of the Suburbans and waited for Lisbon to come up beside him. She did not want to be around him, which was understandable given their recent "break up." Well, if they could even call it that.<p>

He had spent nearly a month away from her. The few cases he worked over the past weeks only needed simple and brief visits to Sacramento. And for those few cases, he had only briefly seen her, much less been in the same room with her. Now, however, they had been called to Fresno. An out of town case usually entailed eating together (with everyone else, of course) and sleeping in the same hotel. Though, luckily for him, he decided to stay at the more upscale hotel rather than the same one she was staying at with the team.

Shaking his head for a second, he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. Once satisfied, he leaned back into the vehicle and crossed his arms over his chest. Sucking in a deep breath through his nose, he let it out through his mouth. As the breath escaped past his lips, he felt the hair prickle on the back of his neck followed by the sound of a twig snapping beneath a shoe.

"I'm here, Jane. Now what do you want?"

Such animosity, he thought.

"How are you, Teresa?" he asked.

Taken aback by his question, Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her stance. It was like she was trying to pull protective layer over another protective layer. Walls, of some sort, to protect herself from his questions. Obviously there was hurt from their "break up" and it would probably last for a little bit of time. Hence why he asked how she was.

"Why are you asking?"

He looked at her in the eyes. "Just answer the question, Teresa."

"You already know the answer," she told him.

Nodding, he pushed himself away from the Suburban and took a couple of steps closer to her. "Yes, I do already know the answer. And I just now confirmed it." Lisbon raised an eyebrow at him. "You are still upset and a bit angry."

"No I am no-"

He cocked his head to the side. "Please, don't lie to me. Or to yourself."

Lisbon's eyes widened. "I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are! It's written all over your face."

"Jane, quit it with that psychic crap!"

He shook his head. "It has nothing to do with that, it's all science. Human behaviour, to be exact."

"Oh?"

"Yes," he nodded, "and it's written plainly all over your face. Never try to lie to me, Teresa, because I can always tell when you are lying to me."

Lisbon narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "Oh, that is a bunch of bullshi—."

"Agent Lisbon?"

Smiling and leaning back against the car, Jane watched as Lisbon whirled around to face Simmons. The man had just arrived on the scene, no doubt having a rough morning with his family, and gazed at the duo questioningly.

"Agent Simmons!" she gasped. "Good morning!"

Nodding his head towards Lisbon and then pausing to look at Jane, Simmons peered back at Lisbon. "Is everything all right here?"

"Yes," she breathed out.

"Are you sure, Lisbon?"

"Yes, Agent Simmons."

Jane chuckled a little, noting that Lisbon's voice was still a slight octave higher than usual. Seeing Simmons abruptly arrive out of nowhere, in a sense, had really riled her up a bit.

With a nod of his head, Simmons left them alone and headed down to report to Martin. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisbon turned back to Jane and re-crossed her arms over her chest once more.

"Stay away from Doctor Steiner," he said.

She tossed her head to the side. "Is this what this is really about? Doctor Steiner?"

Jane drew his lips into a thin line. "I did not like the way he was leering at you."

"He wasn't leering."

"Yes he was. He wanted to have sex with you."

"Jane…"

"And I did not like it."

Lisbon glared at him. "Because you don't like to share?" she scoffed.

He didn't reply to her, but merely stuffed his hands back into his pockets and casted his eyes downward. "Jane, whatever we had is over."

Looking up at her, he quirked his eyebrow and gave her an impish grin. Sure, she may have thought that, but he was still quite sure that having a man older than her chasing after her seemed appealing. "So, you don't mind that Steiner was picturing you naked on a bed covered in rose petals?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Lisbon's face flushed and her cheeks turned bright scarlet. His impish grin widening at his success at getting her to stop talking and see his point worked. He took one hand from his pocket and wiped the corner of his mouth, trying to hide the grin on his face.

"I'm done here," she said, voice a bit higher as she walked away from him.

* * *

><p>By nightfall they had gotten absolutely nowhere. Well, except for coming up with a lead only for it to be dismissed by quickly figuring out that the suspect had an alibi. That setback had brought them back to square one, with Jane hovering around the evidence board trying to get a "psychic fix" on the culprit.<p>

Lisbon scoffed when she had seen him doing this, questioning his effectiveness on the case. This caused Martin to gaze at her questioningly, as she usually didn't bark at the consultant merely because he got something wrong. It was known, though, that they tended to try to go down each other's throats and kill each other.

"You need to go home, Agent Lisbon?" Martin asked.

"No, Sir," she had replied.

For the rest of the discussion, Lisbon remained silent in hopes of her embarrassment to bow over and for all to be forgotten. Or, at least, for it not to come to mind whenever she would glance and Jane, but it was showing no signs of being forgotten thus far.

At about nine o'clock in the evening, Jane's "intuition" caught on to a suspect. Bernard Loupe, aged forty-six with a job as an accountant. Just by looking at his picture, Lisbon felt like she wanted to dismiss him seeing as he appeared to be a scrawny mass of nothing. But by gazing further into his eyes, behind the thick glasses, a shiver ran down her spine.

So much for the ex-husband theory, Lisbon mused.

"I guess I am correct," Jane smirked.

Looking over at the wily consultant, she nodded and glanced over towards Martin. Her boss stood from behind the table, his fingertips still grazing the top. "Simmons, go check it out." Simmons nodded and walked over to his desk. Opening it, he pulled out his gun, checked it, and holstered the weapon.

"Take Lisbon with you," Martin added. "She hasn't been out in the field lately and Minelli would like to see that."

Nodding, Lisbon too walked to her own individual desk and obtained her weapon and handcuffs. Simmons came towards her, holding out the car keys to let her know that he was ready and signalled with her head for them to head down to the garage. Casting one last glimpse behind her, Lisbon bid the bullpen farewell for the hour.

Once in the car, Simmons looked over at her with a questioning gaze before looking back at the road. "So, what's with you and Jane?" he asked.

Shrugging, Lisbon leaned back in her seat and fiddled with the safety belt. "Nothing is going on."

Simmons cast her another look with a raised eyebrow. "You two keep on looking at each other. I can't really place the look, but I feel like it's more than just mutual dislike."

Lisbon crossed her arms over her chest and looked over at her fellow agent. "He and I aren't doing anything."

"Lisbon," Simmons began, "I think he cares a great deal for you."

She was silent and refused to nod. Instead she looked out the window and watched as the various street signs and lights passed by as Simmons drove on. Within five minutes, he pulled up against the curb of a house with no lights on.

"I gotta bad feeling about this," Simmons said, glancing over at Lisbon.

Quirking her eyebrow up, Lisbon unbuckled her safety belt and started to reach for the door handle. "I'm not staying in the car."

Simmons smiled. "I'd never ask you to, Lisbon."

Nodding at her fellow agent, she stepped out of the car and walked side by side up the walkway, stopping before the door. Lisbon reached for the doorbell and promptly pressed down on the button. They heard it chime within the house and there was a sound of someone getting closer to the door. It opened, revealing Bernard Loupe in the flesh.

"Can I help you?" he asked, his voice void of any signs of faltering.

"I'm Agent Simmons and this is Agent Lisbon, we're with the California Bureau of Investigation, Mister Loupe. May we ask you some questions?" Simmons asked.

Mister Loupe crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. His eyes landed on Lisbon, narrowing. "I don't see why not."

"Where were you this morning? At say, anywhere between one to five?"

The man's eyes veered to one direction before landing back on Lisbon. She had not asked the question, Simmons had. And yet Bernard Loupe insisted on gazing at her. It made another shiver run down the length of her spine.

"In my bed. Sleeping."

"Can you have anyone to verify that, Mister Loupe?" Simmons asked.

"No, I cannot." His gaze remained glued to Lisbon before briefly flickering up to meet Simmons's gaze. "Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? It is rather late."

Another shudder coursed through Lisbon's entire body and just as she was about to open her mouth to decline his offer, Simmons answered Mister Loupe's question by accepting. With a tight smile and one last glance to Lisbon, Mister Loupe moved away and allowed them into his home.

Stepping in, Lisbon shivered as a chill hit her. Even though it was late April, it was still rather chilly. Especially when there was obviously no source of heat in the house. The second thing to hit Lisbon was the musty scent that filled the room. She wrinkled her nose at this, trying very little to hide it.

"The kitchen is that way," Mister Loupe gestured.

With a nod, Simmons started on towards the kitchen without glancing back at Lisbon. Drawing her lips into a thin line, she was just about to follow Simmons when the hair at the back of her neck prickled and a hand reached out and grabbed her upper right arm, stopping her from reaching her gun. Another hand reached for her left, taking it firmly and clasping it over her mouth.

The scuffle was enough to cause Simmons to halt in his footsteps and turn around, his eyes wide with shock that he saw Lisbon struggling in Bernard Loupe's arms. She tried to move around, but her right arm was now locked behind her back.

"Don't move, Agent," he said to Simmons.

Simmons raised his arms above his head. "Let her go, Mister Loupe."

Mister Loupe pulled Lisbon tight to his front. "_Slowly_ remove your gun from its holster with two fingers, Agent Simmons." There was a tense moment before Simmons did as he was told. "Now, come here and remove this pretty little thing's Glock."

Scowling, Simmons walked over to Lisbon, glancing at her in the eye, and carefully reaching for it. When is fingers brushed against the grips of the gun, Lisbon began to squirm.

"Stop it!" Mister Loupe spat.

Simmons looked at Lisbon in the eye. "Do as he tells you."

Seeing that she was about to shake her head "no," Simmons grasped onto her weapon and pulled it out of its holster. Carefully, Simmons took a few steps back and slowly lowered the weapon to the ground.

Just a few moments after Simmons had moved away, Mister Loupe moved forward with Lisbon at his front. Trying to fight him only caused the man behind her to tighten his grip on her, digging his fingers into her upper arm the hand that was around hers. Then there was a tense few moments where nothing happened. Everything was still and Lisbon continued to look at Simmons. She was about to try to jerk out of Mister Loupe's grip, seeing as he was now used to holding her being passive, she felt his grip tighten and expel her forward, letting go.

She crashed into Simmons, who instinctually reached out to grasp onto her. Catching herself on her upper arms, Lisbon looked up momentarily to thank him and immediately took off after the suspect, now probable culprit, who had escaped from the door he had neglected to close.

The man hadn't gotten far, as he was currently running down the sidewalk and about to cross the street. Clenching her hands into tight fists, Lisbon pushed herself faster after the man. Her breath could bee seen in front of her in puffs as she exerted herself more than she had in a long time. Her legs carried her faster and faster, propelling her closer and closer to her target. When she got close enough to him, she leapt forward with her hands outstretched, grasping onto the back of his shirt and bringing him down.

Mister Loupe hit the ground hard, Lisbon following as she lay half on him. Her elbow and knee had connected with the concrete and she let out a grunt of pain before she tightened her grip on the man. He struggled, but she held on tighter until he was pinned beneath her. Reaching behind her, she pulled out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them onto each wrist.

"…You…have…the right to…remain…silent," she started, the puffs of steam coming out of her mouth erratically. "Anything you say can…be used against you…"

"LISBON! DID-YA GET HIM?"

Looking up from where she had Mister Loupe pinned, she merely nodded. Simmons rounded the corner, quickly walking with a gun in hand.

"I'm so glad that Minelli assigned you to our team."

* * *

><p>It was a little after ten when Simmons and Lisbon returned to headquarters. First, Jane spotted Simmons. Which, in all honesty was not hard as he was rather large. Second, he caught sight of a limping Lisbon ducking into the ladies room. Frowning at the sight, he followed started after her. He paused in front of the bathroom door and looked around to make sure no one was around before he pushed open the door. Moving around the corner of the restroom, Jane paused when he saw Lisbon standing in front of the mirror, her shirtsleeve rolled up. He also noted that it was bloodstained.<p>

At the moment of his appearance, the door decided that's when it wanted to close behind him. It alerted Lisbon to his presence and when she saw him in the mirror looking back at her, mostly at her arm, she jumped back.

"God, Jane! What the hell are you doing in here?"

"What happened to your arm?"

Lisbon sighed and turned back to the mirror, pulling another paper towel down and dampening it. "I had to apprehend Mister Loupe."

Jane smiled. "Ah, and I'm sure Simmons didn't help at all."

"He caught me, that helped," she said in a resigned tone.

Blinking, Jane shifted his footing. "What do you mean by that?"

She looked down. "Teresa?" he continued. "What happened?"

Lisbon looked up at him, her hand shaking as she tried to wipe the drying blood off of her arm. "Jane, can you please go get the First-Aid?"

"Not until you tell me what happened."

Her eyes locked with his. "Patrick, please."

With a nod, he slowly left the restroom. He walked into the little kitchenette area and went into the cupboard above the sink. Pulling out the white metal box with the big red cross on the front, he walked back into the bathroom. Coming up to rest by the counter, he set the box down and opened it. Lisbon watched him the entire time, holding up her arm and her sleeve back.

He quickly pulled out some antiseptic and sterile gauze. Opening the bottle and pouring some onto the gauze, he held it out towards Lisbon's arm.

"You don't have to do that," she smiled softly.

Jane's eyes locked on hers. "No, I want to."

The first contact that the gauze had with her skin stung and Lisbon recoiled reflexively. He muttered a quick apology and continued on, cleaning off any remaining blood and making sure that the nasty scrape was clean. Once satisfied, he placed a piece of gauze over it and taped it down.

"Thank you," she said.

He smiled. "I'm not done."

Quirking her eyebrow at him, Jane gestured down to her knee. Lisbon rolled her eyes and shifted a little bit so he could kneel before her and slowly roll up her pant leg. When the fabric bunched up at her knee, Lisbon hissed in pain and she took the majority of the weight off of that leg.

There wasn't much of an abrasion on her knee, Jane noted, but he decided to clean it up anyway. It didn't need any sort of bandaging, but maybe it would require some ice for a few minutes to prevent it from swelling.

Once done inspecting her knee, Jane stood up to his full height and looked down at Lisbon. "Are you going to tell me about what happened?"

Her eyes shifted downwards before flickering back up to meet his gaze. "Loupe grabbed me after he invited us in for coffee," she started, "I wasn't going to take any. I never take anything from suspects or victims."

Jane nodded, "I know."

"He made Simmons and I give up our guns. After that, he threw me at Simmons and ran off. I think you can put the rest together yourself," she continued.

Jane nodded. "Did he touch you?"

"What?" she furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Did he touch you inappropriately?" he clarified.

"No!"

"When I ask Simmons, will he be able to tell me the same story?"

Taking in a deep breath, Lisbon nodded. "Yes, he will be able to tell you the same thing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Jane! Stop trying to take care of me! I can take care of myself!"

Quickly, Lisbon grasped a hold of the bloody paper towels and threw them into the trash bin. Briefly afterwards she finished cleaning up all traces that she had been injured and started for the bathroom door when he called after her.

"I will always be here for you, Teresa. And I need you to know that."

Jane watched her grip tighten on the handle, but she didn't look back when she limped from the restroom. With a sigh and a soft smile, Jane slowly began to return the First-Aid supplies back to the box.

**Due to a recent family tragedy, I haven't really had that much time to write. This means that the "End of Part One" will be delayed a little bit. But until then, I'd love to hear about what everyone has to say! :3**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Hello, people of the fanfiction world! - That's the sleep deprivation talking. In the last day, I've been in three separate time zones and two different countries. But alas, I've returned and am no longer in my home country (Sadness, as I like it there. It's chilly).**

**Thank you to everyone for reading, reviewing, subscribing, and favouriting! Believe me, it means a lot!**

**Cat1030 - Thank you so much! I hope this chapter is up to your expectations. :)**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own The Mentalist.**

Chapter Sixteen

**May 7-9, 2003**

At four in the morning, Jane's cell phone rang. Answering it and hearing Martin on the other end, he learned that another serial killing had recently happened. Red John, he said, and that the director most definitely wanted him there within the next few hours. Especially since the murder occurred in San Francisco.

Hanging up the phone, Jane turned to the slumbering Angela and placed a soft kiss at her temple. She was facing away from him, and he wasn't surprised given the argument they had had the night before again. He was tired of the arguing and wanted the peace to return sooner rather than later.

Jane promptly got out of bed, showered, dressed, ate, and left a note for both his wife and daughter. As he was about to walk out the door, emergency case bag in his hands, he decided to set it down and do one last thing before he left.

Setting the bag down on the floor by the door, he made his way up the stairs and into Charlotte's room. Slowly, he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his baby girl's cheek and left the room, minding the new dollhouse in the middle of the floor.

Promptly after kissing Charlotte farewell, Jane picked up his bag and left the house and Malibu behind. After noon was when Jane pulled into San Francisco, and ten minutes after that until he pulled up on the curb of the crime scene. Parking his car, he left the vehicle behind and made his way up the sidewalk to the house with the yellow tape outlining its perimeter.

Simmons stood on the outside, his hands on his hips as he spoke to other law enforcement officials. As he walked by, Jane nodded and continued on into the house, flashing his identification card a couple of times as he walked by the necessary checkpoints.

After he entered the house, Jane made sure to side step the crime scene investigators pouring over the scene. And due to the fact that this was the serial killer's work, people from all sorts of crime departments moved in and out of the house erratically as if a race to get the best perception of what had happened here.

He stopped in the doorway and peered in. First he saw the bloody smiley face on the opposite wall as it gleamed down upon the bloodstain in the middle of the bed. The body had been taken out earlier to be processed, Jane knew.

Jane took a step into the room and slowly examined each and every detail he could find. From the pictures the woman, ranging from her mid to late twenties, worked hard at a bank. She recently started dating someone she liked, who would of course have to be questioned. And she had an affinity for peaches. This was because she had several types of peach décor around the house…and even in her bedroom.

"Do you think it's him this time?"

Jane was pulled out of his thoughts by the abrupt arrival of Simmons. With a sigh, Jane pointed carelessly to the bloody smiley. "Yes, I feel like it is him. It's like I can feel his dark aura."

Simmons, mesmerized, turned to look at Jane. "Really?"

Turning to look at the overweight agent, Jane smiled. "Yes, I truly believe that this woman was murdered by Red John."

* * *

><p>As it drew later on into the afternoon, Jane arrived at the CBI headquarters. When he had walked out of peach-lady…Kandis Johnston's home, he and Simmons were bombarded by the press, causing it to take a lot longer to return to Sacramento. Well, it took Simmons even longer to return to Sacramento due to his frequent stops along the way at gas stations.<p>

But when they arrived back in Sacramento, the first thing Jane was called to do was go along with Martin to Minelli's office. Minelli, looking quite aged due to the Red John case, sat behind his desk and massaged his temples. Martin sat on an opposite chair, his elbows on the table as Jane stood a few feet away.

"This is a nightmare," Minelli started. "An absolute nightmare!"

Jane could only nod as Minelli continued on. "The press has taken a liking to breathing over our necks to get the next story. Vultures!"

"My team and I are doing everything that we can, boss." Martin tried to soothe his superior, but little seemed to be working.

Minelli turned in his chair and rubbed his temples once more. "The press is questioning the effectiveness of the law. Red John has been wreaking havoc on California for far too long, Martin."

"I understand, sir. I will do everything in my power to stop him."

Nodding, Minelli stood from his seat. After mumbling something about needing to get a drink and some air, he asked for Jane and Martin to leave. Promptly doing so, Martin stopped Jane in the corridor outside of Minelli's office.

"Do you have anything, Jane?"

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane shook his head. "Uh, no I do not."

Positioning his hands on his hips, Martin uttered a quick "dammit" under his breath. "We have nothing, then. It's just like every other Red John case."

It would appear so, Jane thought to himself. And just like the previous cases the Bureau was no closer to catching him. Like Minelli had said, it was a nightmare. But Jane felt really no attachment to it. He was just a consultant.

"I need coffee," Martin said suddenly before going off in the direction of the kitchenette.

Smiling as the senior agent walked away, Jane placed his hands into his pockets and started his way towards the bullpen. He stopped short of the doorway, taking a moment to glance through the glass walls and watch as Simmons typed clumsily on his computer and Cho read through the case files for most likely the umpteenth time. Lisbon stood before the portable bulletin board, her eyes gazing at the various crime scene photos that ranged from each Red John case. Almost hesitantly, he took a few steps into the bullpen, smiled at Cho, who looked up from his reading, and continued on towards Lisbon.

"Trying your hand as the psychic now?" he asked her.

Jumping a little at his sudden presence, Lisbon frowned. "There's no such things as psychics," she told him in a low voice, her gaze still moving from picture to picture.

"Huh," he remarked and moved to sit on the edge of a nearby desk. Even though she was correct, he still felt the need to play on with the act. "I should be offended that you don't believe that I have the talent."

She didn't reply to him after that. Instead, Lisbon ignored him and continued to pull off and replace the pictures after she was done getting a good look at them. This continued for a good half hour before she left the bullpen in need of a coffee. He watched her go; his eyes couldn't help but follow her (and focus on her lower half).

When Lisbon left his line of sight, Jane felt the eyes of someone else on him. Pausing and slowly turning around he caught the sight of Cho watching him. The agent was looking at him with an annoyed expression, clearly not liking that he had been gazing at Lisbon's bottom in the slightest. That, or Cho knew that they had been having a secret rendezvous for since he had arrived. Well, Jane realized that Cho knew about the relationship they had had.

Giving Cho a slight nod, Jane put his hands back into his jacket pockets and walked out of the bullpen. Despite knowing that Lisbon was in the kitchenette pouring herself a cup of coffee Jane decided that he was going to try and make himself some tea. It was harmless.

As he turned the corner to enter the kitchenette, his body connected with a more petite one. Immediately after the impact, he felt hot liquid splash onto him and begin to seep into his clothing, and the sound of a cup shattering upon impact of the floor. Followed by this was a sharp his, which may or may not have come from his lips. Looking down, he spotted Lisbon taking a step back to evaluate the damage.

"Dammit, Jane! Why can't you just leave me alone!" her voice was raised, but not too much. She didn't want to attract attention to herself.

Carefully, Jane pulled his wet and coffee-stained shirt away from his body in hopes of preventing burns. "I sought a cup of tea."

"The hell you did!" her voice got a tad bit louder. "Even the last case you worked on you followed me around! _Stop_ it and stay away from me!"

He shook his head. "I did not follow you everywhere," he started.

"You followed me into the bathroom, Jane!"

"You were injured, I took care of you!"

"Jane, I do not need to be taken care of! I can take care of myself!"

That did it. Her voice, since the beginning, had been growing louder and louder in volume. Now it was just reaching the tipping point. It was about to grow louder and attract a lot of unwanted attention. And in all honesty, Jane didn't want to be in the center of attention around the CBI with Lisbon concerned. If rumours got around to the media, he could kiss his marriage to Angela goodbye.

Pointing his hand in her direction, but using the other one to keep the wet shirt away from his belly, he knew his voice rose as well. "You're not listening to me. I was trying to help you, not accost you!"

"Could have fooled me! When we first met, the first thing that you seemed to think about was getting me in your bed! And when you finally did, it was like I was your—"

When Jane heard a gasp from behind him, he knew it was true that a crowd had gathered. Swallowing the lump in his chest, he turned. And his actions of turning are what caused Lisbon to stop talking and look around him, a muttered curse word escaping her lips.

"Uh, nothing to see, everyone!" Jane addressed the mass of people. "Just a minor disagreement, nothing else!"

"You owe me fifty…"

"…oh my God!"

"Martin's agent and consultant? Minor my ass!"

"Yeah, Taylor, I thought they hated each other…"

Rolling back and forth on his heels, Jane turned to look back at Lisbon. She wasn't there and dread seemed to seep into his stomach. Blinking at the empty space, he turned back at the crowd. Everyone continued to watch Jane and whisper about. Some ran off, no doubt to fuel the gossip pool. Clenching his single first, the one not holding the shirt, he started off to try and find Lisbon.

He knew she wouldn't be in the bullpen and nor would she be in one of the interrogation rooms. They were too close to everyone that had just found out about their…affair. Instead, he found himself climbing a flight of stairs and then another. He stopped outside a large door, finding it slightly ajar. Carefully, Jane pushed the door to the side and stepped inside.

It was an attic that still held traces of when the headquarters was an old factory. Smiling at the faint logos that graced the walls, Jane continued on and started to unbutton his shirt. Once done, he pulled it away from his stomach and looked down at the angry red marks. Grimacing, he just folded it a little over his stomach and searched for the door that led to the roof. He found it, and it too was half open. Smiling gravely, he pushed it to the side and stepped out.

There was Lisbon, standing near the railing with her arms crossed over her chest. She appeared to have taken her shirt off and was just standing in her white, now brownish, undershirt. Watching her for a couple of moments, he felt sadness dip into the pit of his stomach. It was his fault, sort of. After all, he hadn't really needed that cup of tea.

"I'm sorry," he said. "No one should have found out. Especially in that manner."

At the sound of his voice, Lisbon stiffened. He rolled on his heels once more. "There's a bit of a draft up here."

"Go away."

Jane paused, taking in her hunched over shoulders as a sign that she might have been crying. That was odd, she didn't cry. Taking a couple of hesitant steps, he placed his hand on her shoulder. "Teresa…"

He did not get the chance to finish his sentence, as Lisbon whirled around and struck him right in the nose. Recoiling back, his hand flying up to his nose to tend to it, he yelped. Blood started to seep through his fingers and drop onto his already coffee-stained shirt.

"Just stay the hell away from me! I'm done with this!"

Lisbon tried to push away from him and re-enter the attic, but Jane reached out and grabbed her upper arm with his un-bloodied hand. "Teresa, stop."

Wrenching her arm from his grasp, she pushed him away from her and he stumbled backwards, his lower body hitting the railing. Instantly, his hand flew away from his bleeding nose and grasped onto the railing as he felt his body begin to tip back. Heart pounding in his chest, he inhaled quickly.

"Te-RESA!"

Perhaps it was his calling her or the terror in his voice, but she turned around anyway. "What the hell were you thinking? You could have killed me!"

Her facial features remained passive at best, eyes blinking every so often. "You're fine, Jane."

"I almost went over the railing!"

"You're fine, Jane. Go back to your hotel." She turned away and started to make her way back into the attic.

"Teresa," he breathed, feeling his heart rate starting to go back to normal. "Please look at me."

Lisbon paused, almost inside the attic and turned. At that moment, a breeze blew by and swept her hair to the side, almost covering her face. With resignation, Jane sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for everything."

Her hand moved to grip the wall, her eyes locked onto his. Jane couldn't figure out what Lisbon was thinking about at this moment for the life of him, but he realized one thing. Well, he had realized long ago that Lisbon was not just a fling. No, she was more. A lot more than just a fling. There was something about Teresa Lisbon that made him want to be with her every second, even when he was with Angela. His time with Lisbon didn't feel wrong nor did it feel forced. It felt right every single time. And right now he was itching to take her into his arms and make her his with every fibre of his being.

Casting her eyes downward, Lisbon slowly left the rooftop and made her way out of the attic.

* * *

><p>The sincerity in his voice is what had disturbed her the most. Ever since she had first met him, he maintained this sort of air about him that he didn't take things seriously. For one, the affair between them seemed to be barely thought through. Typical, she thought, for her to interest herself in the wrong sort of men.<p>

Sighing, Lisbon stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel. It was day two of the Red John case, and Lisbon was sure that nothing was going to happen. She had read in all the case files that they only found a body and the red smiley. Well, they also found Orville Tanner several years ago, but nevertheless the infamous serial killer was always one step ahead of them and seemed to know what he was doing. And well. Now, as they were still nowhere closer to finding him, the press was breathing down Minelli's neck like crazy. Meaning he was bringing the whip down hard over Martin's back, who kindly returned the favour to his team.

Lisbon dressed herself in her nightclothes and prepped herself for bed. Once done, she climbed into bed and leaned against the railing.

He had said that he was _sorry_ for everything. For Patrick Jane to say that with that much sincerity, he had to be telling some degree of truth. She ought to forgive him or move in that direction, she thought. But soon after, she was remembering how he told her that she was nothing but a cheap fling and that his wife, Angela, was not. Well, of course she wasn't. She was, after all, his wife. Her head hurt.

With a groan, Lisbon leaned forward and massaged her aching temples. Her life had been just fine and dandy without Patrick Jane in it. But sadly, he apparently was part of the "moving to Sacramento package."

Huffing, Lisbon grasped a hold of a pillow and pushed it down, punched it, and rest her head above it. The man was so infuriating…the bane of her existence. Patrick Jane really made her life more complicated than she wanted it to be. Actually, she would much rather it not be complicated at all. That was the main reason why she moved to California in the first place, to get rid of the complications and start anew.

When a soft sigh escaped her lips, Lisbon closed her eyes and willed herself to fall asleep. Within a period of ten minutes, she felt herself drift away into sleep. The sound of a car passing by her apartment was heard only once.

A few hours later, Lisbon awakened due to her alarm clock. Rolling over in bed and silencing it, not really appreciating the music blasting her awake. With a sigh, she pushed the blankets from her body and started to get dressed. As she was in the middle of cleaning her teeth, she heard her cell phone ring.

Spitting out the toothpaste and spit, she set the brush down on the sink and jogged into her bedroom. She picked up the phone and flipped it open, pressing the green button.

"Lisbon," she said into the phone.

"_We found someone that may have seen Kandis Johnston's murder." _

It was Martin on the other end, sounding stern and authoritative. And at the sound of someone possibly witnessing a Red John murder, Lisbon's back straightened.

"Sir?"

This could make her career! Well, she had a pretty good reputation due to capturing William McTeir, but still! Being a part of the team that catches a mistake made by Red John will no doubt enhance her resume, but secure her a position elsewhere in a government job. Her mind began to drift, away from the prospect of finding Red John and towards the future.

She'd have a job with the FBI, something she had been thinking about for a long while. The prospect was so alluring that she was almost tingling with anticipation.

"_Lisbon!" _

Lisbon fumbled with her phone, taken aback by Martin's sudden bark on the other end. "Yes, sir?"

"_I need you to come in as soon as possible. We're bringing over the witness now."_

"Sure thing, boss."

"See you then," he told her before hanging up.

Flipping her phone shut, a small smile crept across Lisbon's face. It wasn't every day that someone got a great lead on a case like this, she thought to herself.

* * *

><p>Julia Boucher, an average-sized woman with short blond hair and brown eyes, sat in the uncomfortable metal seat and fidgeted. There beside her was a cooling cup of coffee, untouched after she had drank almost half, as the woman continued to wiggle her fingers about.<p>

Jane watched Miss Boucher closely, noting how nervous she seemed. He had read over the Red John case file once more, where he came to the conclusion that Red John's victims very rarely had witnesses. The only other witness, Thomas Bern, died mysteriously when he was T-boned on his way to Santa Monica. This captured Jane's attention only mildly, but he decided not to look much into it.

The door opened and closed to the interrogation room, allowing both Martin and Cho to enter the room. Cho immediately sat down opposite of Miss Boucher.

"Is there something wrong with your coffee, Miss Boucher?" Martin asked, his tone sincerely kind.

Fiddling with one of the rings on her fingers, Miss Boucher shook her head. "N-no, it's perfectly all r-right," she stammered. "Just a b-bit n-n-nervous is all."

Cho clicked the end of a pen and brought it down to the notepad before him. "What exactly did you see two nights ago, on the night of Kandis Johnston's murder?"

Her eyes growing in size and appearing as if she was sucking on a lemon, Miss Boucher looked down at her hands. "I-I saw a man enter her h-house. He w-wasn't too tall, I-I'm sure of that!"

Jane shifted his footing and peered at Julia Boucher. Something was amiss with her, but he could not quite place why he thought so. He noticed she seemed short of breath, but not too badly. He would not have guessed that she have such problems, as she seemed to be quite the athlete. She was, after all, wearing trainers.

"What are you doing here?"

Turning, Jane glanced over his shoulder to see Lisbon stepping into the room behind the one-way glass. Nodding at her and drawing his lips into a thin line, he turned back to look through the glass. "Trying to get a connection to our witness."

"_Our_ witness, Jane?" she scoffed and came up to lean against the wall and gaze through the glass.

"Something's wrong with her."

Lisbon did not respond to him. She merely shifted her footing and continued to look through the glass. Obviously, she had heard him. It did not take much for her to do so as she was less than an arm's reach from him. The longer the silence seemed to last, the tension seemed to only grow in the room.

Julia Boucher gasped for breath suddenly, her hand clasping onto her chest. Martin stood to his feet and went around the table to assist her. Cho started to rise as he asked her for what was wrong, but Miss Boucher was unable to answer.

"Cho, call an ambulance!" Martin shouted as he held onto the woman, who was about to pass out.

Whipping out his cell phone, Cho dialled 9-1-1 and held the phone to his ear. "I need paramedics in interrogation room three!"

Behind the glass, Lisbon took one glance at Jane as she pushed away from the glass and ran from the room and into the one adjacent. Jane watched as she stood in the room, her gaze falling to Miss Boucher now lying limp in Martin's arms.

"What the hell?"

Jane's eyes went to the coffee sitting on the table and he narrowed his eyes. The woman had drunk from that cup of coffee, and as soon as she had, she seemed suddenly more fatigued and dizzy. His eyes suddenly widened, coming to the stark realization that the coffee had been poisoned.

Leaning forward until he pressed a button, Jane spoke through the microphone. "The coffee's poisoned."

Lisbon's gaze snapped to his. "YOU DON'T KNOW THAT!" she yelled over the hysterics in the room as the paramedics began to swoop in.

Rolling his eyes, he pressed the button again. "Someone was trying to kill her for being a witness. They drugged her coffee."

"Mister Jane, this is a secure building—," Martin started.

"Someone got in," he interrupted.

And it didn't take him that long until it dawned upon him that it was Red John.

* * *

><p>Lisbon paced the length of the roof. The stars were out tonight; she could see them all almost clearly in the midnight sky. Yes, it had been several hours since Julia Boucher died. A coroner was doing an autopsy at the moment to determine a cause of death, but he had already mentioned that a possible cause was cyanide. They were also having the coffee tested.<p>

"Nice night for star gazing."

Whirling around at the sound of another behind her, Lisbon blinked at the sight of Jane standing beside the door leading into the attic, his hands in his pockets. "The coroner is almost done," he informed her.

She nodded and turned back towards the stars. "I also wanted to say something else, Teresa."

"Don't call—."

"I'm sorry."

Lisbon turned back to him. "You already said that."

Taking two steps towards her, Jane stopped suddenly. "And yet you do not believe me, Teresa."

Jane grinned, almost as if he was about to laugh. But it wasn't one of those kind of smiles – it was his more devious one. One that said a lot of things, and innocence was not on of them.

"Leave me alone, get the hell off the roof," she told him again.

"Not until you hear about what I have to say."

She crossed her arms over her chest as a shiver went through her. Stupid chilly air. Turning to him, she frowned. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad," he told her.

Lisbon turned back around and tried to ignore him to the best of her ability. It was impossible; as whenever she knew he was close to her she would feel her body seize up a tad bit.

"You are special, Teresa Lisbon. I admire you greatly for it."

Rolling her eyes, Lisbon scoffed, "now that we've got that covered. Jane, get off the roof."

"I care about you, Teresa, more than you know."

"Right," she scoffed once more.

"I enjoy every moment spent with you –."

"Oh, please."

"—and I have come to learn that I care very greatly for you."

At this, Lisbon stilled. She refused to turn around and face him, knowing that he actually was no longer all that far away from her. He was slowly but sure stepping closer and closer to her.

"I want you, Teresa Anne Lisbon."

Her heart stopped. No man had ever told her this, and thus she turned around to face him. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she wanted so very much to just hit him. He was only a few centimetres away from her, she could feel his warm breath tickling her skin.

"How dare you," she started. "How dare you _say_ that to me!"

She hit him. Her fist connected with his jaw, knocking his head backwards and causing him to take a couple of steps back. His hands immediately flew upward to tenderly massage his jaw.

"Stay the hell away from me!"

"Teresa…" he mumbled.

Jane slowly started to walk towards her again, causing Lisbon to put both of her hands in front of her. "I meant it, Jane, don't come any closer."

He did, of course, test her patience. Without listening to her, Jane started to come closer until he had her lower body pressed into the railing. Growing even more aggravated with him, she pulled her shoulder back and was about ready to hit him again when his hands grabbed onto her forearm and pushed it into her side.

"What the hell—."

She was unable to finish her exclamation when another warm mouth covered her own. Her hand flexed in his, trying to break free and hit him again. Lisbon's other hand slowly began to come up to hit him, but he caught that one too. Lazily, he moved his mouth over hers as he kept her pinned.

Jane's tongue began to probe at her lips, asking for entrance. And in all honesty, she didn't know why she opened it to grant him access. Her entire mind felt dizzy to the extent that she felt cut off from the rest of the world. Slowly, Jane moved her arms up to around his neck. He held them there, carefully, almost as if he was afraid she'd strangle him once released. With much caution, he let go of her and reached forward to wrap one arm around her waist and pull her closer while the other arm went to tangle in her hair in order to change the angle of her head.

They broke the kiss together to take in another breath, but before Jane could lower his lips upon hers once more, Lisbon held up her hand. "No," she said.

Pulling away from her with much confusion in his eyes, Lisbon shook her head. "No," she repeated. "I can't d-do this."

She pushed him away from her and moved towards the door. Jane reached for her, but missed as his fingertips barely brushed the flesh of her forearm. He watched her exit through the door and abruptly leave the attic.

* * *

><p>At two o'clock in the morning, Martin had indeed confirmed that Julia Boucher had indeed died from cyanide poisoning. The senior agent had also confirmed that her coffee had been spiked.<p>

Jane listened in on the conversation between the team as he leaned against the doorframe. His shirt was un-tucked from his trousers and his hair tousled, but he didn't care about his appearance. After all, it was in the mere hours of the morning.

His gaze had been on Lisbon's from during the entire exchange. She sat at the table with a steaming cup of coffee (from the twenty-four hour shop down the street) with a bunch of papers before her. Her clothes too were rumpled and her hair was tied back messily. She looked like she had not gotten a good amount of sleep in days.

"We've hit another dead end," she murmured to herself.

Nodding without her knowledge, Jane pushed away from the doorframe and slowly made his ways towards her. As he stood before her, he felt that there was absolutely no smugness apparent on his face. The emotions on his face were plainly sincere, and he wanted Lisbon to understand this.

Without any hesitation, Jane trailed his index finger from her upper arm to her shoulder, grasping onto it to squeeze tightly. Lisbon looked down at his hand and then up at him. She didn't narrow her eyes or anything of that sort towards him, but she did reach forward to grasp onto his hand.

Looking over her shoulder, she made sure that no one was in the bullpen. With a deep breath, she stood before Jane and brought her hand to trace the bruise forming on his jaw. He flinched at the feeling of her fingers against the broken blood vessels, but relaxed into her touch.

Lisbon placed her hand on his shoulder and stood on her toes. She gazed at him in the eyes and pressed her lips to his softly. Recovering from his momentary shock, (he hadn't expected this) Jane placed both of his hands on her hips and kissed her back lovingly.

Everything felt so right, but that everything was so wrong.

**Fast, I know. I may have to go back and fiddle with a few things, but that's fine with me. Like/dislike/love (heh)? Let me know, please! **


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**I would like to thank all the supportive people who have read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed to this story. Part One will be ending in a chapter after this...meaning I will be on a brief hiatus to work on other stories that I have put on hold. **

**Furthermore in this author's note, I have been working on this chapter for ages. It really took a lot and I'm quite glad to have finished writing it. Also, note the change in rating. It's not too bad, if I must say, but I felt that in light of Fanfiction's new idea of how they manage the ratings, I ought to up it to be safe. **

**Cat1030 - I honestly think I've only reviewed a story once on my iPod...and that's saying something, I'm sure! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! **

**LAuroe - I hope that you will be able to log in soon! Glad that you liked the last update!**

**Guest - Thank you so much! I am really glad that you liked it and enjoying the last chapter. **

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own The Mentalist. I promise you this.**

Chapter Seventeen

**May 11, 2003**

Placing the cereal bowl in the kitchen sink, Jane turned to Angela, who was kneeling down and fixing Charlotte's dress. Right before Charlotte had come down to get her breakfast, they had been arguing. He had informed her that another interview, where he'd put up the act once more, was going to happen next week. After hearing this, of course, Angela snapped. She had kept her voice low, so Charlotte would be unable to hear her, but she still expressed her anger in ways he could not describe.

"Are you ready to go, Sweetie?" Angela asked their daughter.

Excitedly, Charlotte bounced her head up and down, her curls moving along. "Yes, Mommy!"

Fixing the strap on her backpack, the little girl held her hand out for her mother to grab a hold of. That was a thing between them; Charlotte would always like to hold her mother's hand as she was being taken to school. It was always something that brought a smile to Jane's lips when he got the opportunity to observe it.

"Charlotte?" he spoke up, making the little girl turn her head towards her father. "Can I get a hug before you go?"

Charlotte's smile widens and she lets go of her mother's hand. She walks over to her father and wraps her arms around his lower half, mumbling a "goodbye, Daddy, I will miss you!" After that, she pulled away from him and clutched onto her mother's hand once more.

As they walked out the door, Angela shot him a look. It was one of annoyance…one that also read "we'll talk later." Drawing his lips into a thin line, he picked up his teacup and nodded to her. When she walked out of the kitchen, Charlotte pulling her towards the car, Jane moved his head back to take a sip of the warm Earl Grey.

* * *

><p>Taking in a deep breath, Jane fiddled with the microphone situated on the lapels of his jacket. Something did not feel right, in all honesty, and he could not think of a reason why he currently felt ill at ease. It wasn't like him, especially right before a show like this. It was nothing, really. He would go stand in front of the crowd, another microphone (one that is on) in hand as he would give a psychic reading to the bunch of suckers. And then towards the end he would give an interview as in regards to his unique skillset.<p>

Honestly, he's done this several times. He ought not to be nervous nor fell uneasy.

"We're on in five, Mister Jane."

He looked over at the woman in the headset, her hands clutching onto a clipboard. "Are you ready?" she asked.

Jane nodded. "Yes, I am Miss –."

"Abigail," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Abigail Holmes."

Smiling, Jane nodded once more. "Abigail, thank you."

Abigail diverted her gaze from his and blushed. His smile widening, Jane turned to look back into the nearby mirror and fiddled a bit with his tie. Insuring that it was all right, he took a step back and finished fixing his jacket. And by the time he smoothed down his slicked back hair, it was show time.

The stage was still within the interior of a television studio, which was fine. With an arrogant air about him Jane steps upon the stage in front of the audience, now mute. For a brief second, his fingers drummed along the side of the microphone and then he held it up to his lips. With a winning smile, he introduced himself.

"Hello, my name is Patrick Jane." The audience remained hushed all the same. "I can look deeply beyond the natural order and connect with those long lost."

He had the entire audience moving slowly on the edges of their seats. Their eyes were wide with wonder and curiosity. They wanted more and he'd happily provide it. Suckers, he thought, as he pushed the uneasiness away and moved into the role as the psychic medium.

"Which one of you is…" He indulged himself in smirking as he looked downwards, looking deep into his memory palace and remembering the list of guest members within the studio. And then he remembered the research on a few of the patrons. "…Jenny Andrews?"

Jenny Andrews was a rather petite-looking woman, her hair short and auburn. Her skin was pale and her eyes open wide with shock. And the shock is exactly what Jane wanted to be plastered across her face.

"Jenny, your father was an alcoholic, was he not?"

In reaction to the bulls-eye, Jenny's hand flew to her mouth. "H-how d-do you know t-that?" she stammered.

He paused for a moment, watching as Jenny's form morphed into a familiar face. Lisbon. Knowing that his eyes were no glazed over (which was actually rather good, as it could enhance his act), he tried to focus on Lisbon's shape in the crowd alone. He focused on her eyes, now growing watery. Taking a step back and holding his hand out, he watched as Lisbon turned back into Jenny.

Blinking for a couple of seconds, Jane took another deep breath and let his hand waver. A bit. "He says that he's sorry for all the pain he has caused you and your mother. Deeply sorry." He fixated his eyes on another point, watching as Jenny's hand flew to her mouth for the second time, her eyes now full of tears as her shoulders rapidly moved up and down. "He asks you to forgive him. Can you do that, Jenny?"

Erratically, Jenny nods. She is speechless as she begins to slowly sob. "He needs to hear it," Jane continued.

Jenny moved her hands away from her mouth, now sobbing before Jane, the audience, and on live television. "I forgive you, Daddy! I forgive you!" she wept.

Jane took a step back and moved his line of direction upwards. He smiled, going in for the kill and making sure that his gaze looked as if he were in a trance. "Oh, yes! He's smiling now. There are tears of joy! He says God bless you and keep you," he pauses and looks down a bit. "He's gone."

Coming out of his "trance," Jane notes that Jenny is now sobbing more freely than she had been earlier. The audience, amazed, clapped their praise towards the charlatan. Giving a smile at the audience and a slight wave, Jane walks over to the other two interviewers. The woman, clapping also, looked purely amazed.

"Amazing, amazing, amazing!" she cried.

The man looked over to the crowd. "She's amazed! Patrick!"

Jane smiles and reaches for the glass of water and takes a sip. "One second."

The woman looks over to her fellow interviewee. "Give him some time."

In slight resignation, the man drew his hands towards him. "Come on back to us."

Jane set the glass down on the table and sat back in his chair, smiling. "I'm back. Thank you."

Smiling and laughing, the woman turns back to the audience. "He's back!"

"So Patrick, I understand that you're also sort of a paranormal detective. Is that right?"

Ah, he went right into it. Jane remembered that he had been warned earlier that they would most likely want to talk about the Red John case. Especially since they (The CBI and he, he had meant) had previously just worked on a case in regards to the serial killer.

"I try to help the police when I can," Jane stated.

"And you're helping them hunt this scary serial killer, what's his name?"

"Red John," the woman said.

"Red John?"

Jane nods in affirmation. "That's right. Red John." He let his eyebrows move downwards a bit for effect. "He's killed at least eight women that we know of. The police asked me to try and get a psychic fix on him and see if I can get a sense of who this man is."

"How do you do that exactly? Get a psychic fix on someone?" the male interviewer asked.

"Well, true demonic evil burns like fire. It burns with a terrible cold, dark flame. I force myself to look into that flame and I see an image of the evil-doer; in this case, Red John," he paused for a dramatic effect, "He's an ugly, tormented little man; a lonely soul. Sad, very sad."

Jane watched as the male interviewer and his female counterpart sat back, their hands on their thighs as they looked at each other. Smiling, Jane reached for the glass of water and brought it to his lips. Leaning back into his chair, he took a sip and watched as the interviewers and the audience mulled over what he had just said to them all. As he listened to the whispers buzz around the television studio, he felt the cell phone in his pocket vibrate. And with much grace, he stood and walked off the set.

* * *

><p>Lisbon sat in her hotel room on the bed, wrapped in only a flimsy little towel as she blotted her hair dry. Her cell phone lay on the bed beside her, on and ready for Jane to text her back. When she set the towel down on the flowery duvet, she heard her phone chirp and saw the little window light up. <strong>NEW TEXT<strong>, it read.

Picking up the phone and flipping it open, she pressed the button in the center and watched as the text clearly came up on the screen. It was from Jane, and he was informing her that he would be there shortly. She smiled and closed the phone to set it aside. She got up from her place on the bed and walked into the bathroom to dry her hair and move the towel away from her body.

Once her hair was dry, she went into her little duffel bag and pulled out her undergarments. Pulling them onto her body, she reached in once more and removed the dress that Jane had bought her those months ago. Holding it up to her body and smoothing out the small wrinkles, she smiled. And without much further ado, she undid the zipper and stepped into the dress.

After she was done dressing, Lisbon walked into the bathroom and began to fix up her hair and apply a light amount of make up. It was all natural, for the most part. And by the time her hair was brushed out and the make up lightly applied to her delicate features, she heard a knock on the door.

Running her fingers alongside the bottom of her lip, she stole one last glance from the mirror and walked out from the bathroom and towards the door. Glancing into the peephole, she smiled at seeing Jane's face on the other side.

Quickly, Lisbon unlatched the door and pulled it open. Jane stood before her, leaning against the doorframe as he slowly started to walk into the room and grasp onto her face with both of his hands.

"You're wearing the dress I bought you," he said.

She nodded. "Well, all the rest were at the dry-cleaners."

"Whatever you say," he said as he pushed his way into the room and leaned down closer to her. "Though, I must say, that this dress fits you wonderfully. I have good taste."

Once the door was closed behind them, he brought his lips down to hers. His kiss was unforgiving and fierce that had her knees trembling beneath her. Lisbon pulled back from him to catch her breath, allowing their gazes to lock before their lips caught each other's once more. His hands moved to tangle in her hair, more forcibly angling her head upwards to allow his tongue to thrust into her mouth. Their tongues slid alongside the other, dancing a passionate tango.

This time it was he who pulled away from her; his cheeks flushed bright red and his breath coming out in pants. "What do you want me to do, Teresa?" he asked.

Wordlessly, Lisbon leaned into him and nuzzled her nose against the column of his neck. His hands slid from their place within her hair and down her neck, shoulders, and arms. They jumped from her forearms to her waist to pull her closer to him until she was pressed flush against him.

"This," she whispered and kissed him again.

Lisbon wrapped an arm around his neck, the other starting to push his jacket at its lapels from his body. The other hand soon assisted the other, and Jane shrugged his jacket off and wrapped his arms around her petite body once more. With his jacket off, Lisbon's hands roamed across his chest, eventually ending at where his tie and began to slowly undo it. Without breaking lip contact, she got the tie away from his body and threw it to the ground beside his jacket.

"Teresa, did you just put this dress on?" he murmured against her lips.

She was about to tell him no when his lips moved away from hers and began to trail down the side of her neck, his nose nuzzling as he went. "You also smell freshly showered."

"Maybe."

He chuckled against her and reached behind her for the zipper on the back of her dress. Finding it, he slipped it down and watched as the dress loosened from around her body and she slowly slid it from her body. It pooled around her ankles and she stepped out of it, her lips returning to his as she deftly unbuttoned his shirt. Her hips pressed up against his and rotated, feeling him there. He groaned at the sensations, even more so when she pushed the shirt from his broad shoulders until it lay on the ground beside her dress.

"Teresa…" he whispered against her lips.

She smiled against him, feeling his hands slide down her body until he picked her up. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she leaned in and kissed right behind his ear as she felt them move towards the bed. One of his hands reached behind her head and moved her away from his ear, bringing her lips back to his. And with one final moment, he looked her in the eyes and kissed lovingly her before placing her onto the bed, his body following atop of hers.

* * *

><p>It was hours later when Jane heard his phone go off, but he ignored it. He was too happy holding Teresa Lisbon in his arms once more. It had been a long time since they had had sex with each other…but actually this encounter was different than the previous. No, it hadn't been just sex. That's what he, for the most part, tried to tell himself every time he went to her. But this time was different.<p>

Yes, he had accepted that his relationship with Teresa Lisbon had changed this time. And the more he contemplated the aforementioned relationship, the more he wanted her. The intimidating notion was that he wanted this more than his marriage to Angela.

Despite what he felt for Lisbon, he still cared for his wife, and for that he did not wish to hurt her. Angela was a wonderful woman, but maybe not the wonderful woman for _him_.

"Patrick?"

At the sound of his lover's voice, Jane's gaze softened and he looked down. Lisbon was lying on her stomach, her body propped up on her arms. Her hair was tousled from their recent coital encounter.

With a smile, Jane leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I thought you were asleep," he murmured and began to nuzzle her ear.

She sighed, "I was."

"Something on your mind?" He nipped her earlobe, causing Lisbon's breath to hitch in her throat.

She inhaled. "I'm just curious about some things."

"Yes?" he asked teasingly, trailing kisses down the side of her neck and lightly biting down on her throat.

Lisbon was silent for a few moments, and this caused Jane to pull away from her neck and look down at her. She appeared troubled more than anything else, and feeling a wave of concern overtake his being, Jane cupped her cheek in his palm. "Do you think we have a future?" she asked softly.

_Yes_, his mind screamed! _Of course!_

Jane gazed into her eyes and smiled. With a slight nod of the head, he pressed his lips onto hers. "Yes," he murmured against her.

Wrapping his arms around Lisbon and turning her around so that she was more on her back, Jane felt her stiffen only slightly. She was still concerned if he was sincere or not, which he hoped that he could prove to her that he was, in fact, sincere.

His mouth moved lazily against hers, one of his hands trailing down from her waist towards her thigh. Jane pressed Lisbon more firmly into the mattress and lay above her, his fingertips tightening their grip as he nipped her bottom lip. She moaned in his mouth, her hands tangling in his curls.

"Patrick!" she gasped when his mouth touched her neck once more.

Smiling against her skin and pressing a kiss at the juncture – more towards her shoulder, he felt her grip strengthen on his scalp. His mouth continued to lazily run over her body, trailing downwards then back up once more. As their eyes gazed longingly at one another, they joined their bodies and soon became one, moving against each other in a familiar rhythm.

Jane took both of Lisbon's hands in his, clasping onto them tightly and pressing them into the pillow beside her head. When he felt himself begin to tumble down from his peak, his hands clamped down upon hers and his mouth descended upon hers, kissing her with all the emotion he could put into it.

"I – love – you," he said against her lips, mind void of all rational thought.

Within his arms, Lisbon stilled and removed one of her hands from his grasp. Their faces were only a few centimetres apart from each other as she trailed the back of her hand down the swell of his cheek. He knew that Lisbon was not much of a woman to express her feelings in tears, but when he saw the little droplets fall from her eyes, he could not resist kissing them away.

She pushed him away carefully, her hand splayed out across his chest. Jane looked down and grasped onto her hand, squeezing it in his. His eyes trailed back up to hers, noting how her gaze never faltered from his. Slowly, she leaned forward and captured his lips in her own, tongue moving at the seam of his mouth. His hand left hers and went to place on her upper arm, where he trailed it downwards and took her hand once more. Their tongue slid alongside each others, touching every single crevice within their mouths.

Finally, she pulled away from his mouth and pressed a soft kiss before nipping his lower lip deviously. He smiled down upon her, rubbing his hand against her upper arm as she shifted and began pulling the blankets over them. Jane took that job away from her, grasping onto the soft covers and being sure to pull them up enough to adequately cover them both. They lie on their sides, eyes looking into each others, and at that moment Jane leaned close to the corner of her mouth.

"Sleep," he said.

With a slight nod, Lisbon moved closer to him. Her arm wrapped around his chest and her head was placed upon it. Their legs tangled together and he pulled her close. They found themselves asleep in less than a minute.

* * *

><p>Angela finished setting the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher. She and Charlotte engaged in a macaroni and cheese dinner, seeing as her husband had decided not to show up for the meal yet again. It was his turn to cook, after all, which is why she simply opted for a quick dinner.<p>

Leaning against the countertop, Angela sighed. She knew something was amiss with her husband. Well, she'd known that for a while now. But his absence at dinner is what told confirmed her suspicions. He was seeing someone else.

Teresa Lisbon.

She knew that Agent Lisbon was a kind woman at heart, but her very presence set Angela's teeth on edge. She was, after all, sleeping with her husband.

Sighing yet again, Angela pushed away from the countertop and started to head up to Charlotte's bedroom, where she knew her young daughter would be waiting for her bedtime story. Sadly, this was also her husband's turn to tell the tale.

Arriving in her daughter's bedroom, she smiled at seeing her young daughter sitting cross-legged on her bed (under the covers, of course) with a storybook in her little hands. With a beaming face, which slowly shrunk down at the sight of her mother rather than father, Charlotte placed the book in her lap.

Angela understood immediately, knowing that _Blueberries for Sal _was the weekly story read to Charlotte by her father. And because he was not here, Angela was not to read it to her.

Walking into the room, Angela pressed a soft kiss to her daughter's forehead, pulled the blankets up to her chin (mindful of the book clasped tightly in her daughter's little hands), and clicked the light switch off at the end of the room. Drawing her lips into a thin line, Angela added yelling at her husband for disappointing their daughter to her list of things to do tomorrow.

She made her way back downstairs. She glanced out the window once and proceeded to check the locks. After making sure they were adequately secure, she started to make her way back up the stairs when she heard a noise outside the house. Pausing with her hand on the banister, Angela slowly turned to look out the window. She saw nothing and instantly she felt her senses flair up in alert.

"Patrick?" she called out hesitantly.

Hearing no one answer her, Angela let out a sigh. _No one's out there_, she thought as she started to make her way back up the staircase. Checking on her daughter one last time and smiling at her cherubic little one, she re-closed the door and headed back to her bedroom, where she stripped herself of her attire and pulled on her nightgown.

* * *

><p>Awakening to see it pitch black outside, Jane sat up and gathered the blankets around his lower body. He had to leave now, knowing that Angela would be upset with him. He had, after all, promised to be there for dinner and to read Charlotte her favourite story before bed.<p>

As he slowly began to get off of the bed, he heard his lover stir behind him. "Patrick?" he heard her murmur sleepily.

Turning towards her, he smiled and leaned down to press a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "I need to go now, all right?" he said. "I will be back for you."

Sleepily, Lisbon nodded. Smiling at her fatigued reaction, he stood from the bed and found his undergarments. Slipping them onto his body and picking up his pants, he came to the decision that he had to make things right. With Lisbon, he meant. And by doing that he was going to build on to the family he already had with her. Yes, it would hurt Angela in the process, but it must be done. With Lisbon he felt complete somehow, and he had not felt that way with Angela.

Fully dressed, Jane glanced back at his sleeping lover curled into the blanket. Taking one last glance as he picked up his car keys, he set out and started to make his way towards his faithful BMW.

He drove home thinking the entire way. Mostly his thoughts were about the new family he was about to build, but his thoughts also came to rest with Charlotte. What would happen to her? Surely it would be wrong for him to take her away from her mother….He gripped the steering wheel tightly at the sudden realization that he would be splitting Charlotte up between her two parents. That was the one thing he did not want to happen.

Going around the bend, he decided he would have to continue his decision. It was unfair to Angela, and by default, Charlotte, that he was stuck in a marriage that he did not cherish. He would have to go through with this and end it.

Jane eased his car into the driveway and killed the engine. Drumming his fingers against the wheel once more, he summed up enough of his courage and got out of the vehicle. He unlocked the door to his house and moved inside, setting the keys aside and moving towards the stairs, only pausing to wheel Charlotte's tricycle away. His hands took hold of the banister as he started to make his way up the staircase in twos, knowing to take care of this carefully.

A smile moved onto his face as he got to the top of the stairs, knowing this was the first step to a happier life. With his heart hammering in his chest, he continued down the hallway, his mind briefly drifting to Teresa Lisbon being his forever. As he neared the door to his bedroom, he saw a note taped onto it. Angela left him a note, most likely. Pausing to read it, within seconds it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been doused atop him. And that that cold water was like sharp knives piercing through his skin.

His breath caught in his throat as he read over the words, his body growing shaky. All rational thought shot from his mind instantly as his heart stopped completely in his chest.

"_Dear mister Jane, _

_I do not like to be slandered in the media, especially by a dirty mind-grubbing fraud. If you were a real psychic, instead of a dishonest little worm, you wouldn't need to open the door to see what I've done to your lovely wife and child."_

Trying to regain his breath, Jane's hand grasped onto the doorknob. He pushed open the door, his heart beating wildly inside his chest once more only for it to stop once more when the door opened.

A lamp was lying down; it's light angling upwards at the sickening red smiley face painted on the wall opposite of him. The smell of blood is what hit him second, followed by the sight of his wife lying on her back; eyes wide open with a cut almost severing her neck. Charlotte was lying atop her mother, her eyes only half open as if she had been sleeping but taken by surprise.

Seeing his wife and child lying dead and bloodied caused Jane to fall back against the wall and slowly slide down it. He felt sick to his stomach and with a shaky hand; he groped inside his jacket for his cell phone. Pulling it out and flipping it open, he dialled 9-1-1.

The phone slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor when Jane sunk to his knees, throwing his head and emitting a mournful cry. Slowly standing to his feet, he shakily moved to smooth his hand down his daughter's cheek, his hand coming into contact with her caking blood.

"Charlotte…" he croaked, seeing his baby girl dead and gone before him.

"…_dirty mind-grubbing fraud..."_

"W-what have I done?"

Gathering Charlotte in his arms and holding her close to his chest, he let out a mournful cry. Gently, he started to rock his baby in his arms, not caring that her blood was slowly starting to cover his body. His little girl, his Charlotte, could not be dead. No, head seen her this morning. She was alive and well. This was a joke. No, Charlotte was not dead and neither was Angela. They were alive.

They were alive.

They were _**alive.**_

The salty tears that ran from Jane's eyes met the blood on his daughter's cheeks. Merging together, they slowly slid down Charlotte's face and down onto the bedspread as father mourned over daughter.

Jane took one glance at Angela, loosening his death grip on Charlotte to allow space for him to pull his wife into his arms. He held both to his chest, sobbing into their hair.

"Oh, A-Angela, I'm s-so s-sorry."

As Patrick Jane held both of the girls in his arms, he rocked them both. He cried for them both, not ceasing even when he heard the sirens draw nearer in the distance and now when he felt the EMT's try to pull him away from his dead and bloodied family.

* * *

><p>The sound of her phone ringing is what pulled her from her peaceful slumber. Turning over in her sleep and clumsily grasping onto it, Lisbon flipped it open and held it up to her ear.<p>

"This is Lisbon," she yawned.

There was a sigh on the other end…Minelli?

"_Agent Lisbon, we have a situation."_

Her eyes widening, she sat up in the bed, noticing that it was void of her partner. Feeling slightly exposed whilst speaking to her superior, regardless of it being on the phone, she pulled the blankets up and around her.

"Sir?"

There was a pregnant pause. _"Red John has struck again."_

Shutting her eyes and cursing, she pushed the blankets off of her and began searching for her blue jeans and t-shirt. Neither were professional by any means, but they were certainly better than wearing a dress to a crime scene.

"Where do I need to go?" she asked.

Minelli sighed again. _"Malibu, Agent."_

Malibu?

"_The victims are Angela and Charlotte Jane, Agent Lisbon." _Minelli said, knowing that she would be wondering as soon as Malibu was mentioned.

At the mention of Jane's family, the phone slipped from her fingers and fell to the ground. It broke apart upon impact, scattering across the floor as she quickly grabbed her clothes and then the car keys. She all but ran from the hotel and to her car to drive to Malibu, breaking the law just this once.

She arrived to find police cars swarming the area and crime scene tape wrapped around the Jane house. There was an ambulance in the distance, the paramedics shaking their heads. Not far from the ambulance was a coroner's van.

_Oh no_, she thought and ran underneath the tape, flashing her badge. She entered the house and ascended the stairs. Upon reaching the end of the hall, she flashed her badge once more. "Agent Teresa Lisbon, CBI," she declared without her voice faltering.

The police officers parted and allowed her into the room. She stopped immediately at the sight of mother and daughter lying on the bed. Her breath hitching in her throat, Lisbon leaned against the wall and continued to look over the scene.

Trailing her eyes down both their bodies, her eyes stopped at Angela's toes. They were painted red, and not like one would at a salon. No, that was blood on her toenails.

Feeling her body begin to shake and lose her calm, Lisbon dismissed herself and made her way outside, where she leaned against a nearby tree. Every single emotion possible bubbled up inside of her and she felt as if she were caught up in a very bad dream. Angela and Charlotte Jane were dead by the hands of Red John.

_Oh, Patrick_…._What did you do?_

Pushing herself away from the tree and trying to compose her person, she started to walk back towards to the police cars when she saw a familiar man sitting on the bumper. Yes, Jane sat nursing a cup of coffee – untouched, obviously. He was covered in blood.

Slowly, she walked towards him until she stood before him. "Patrick?" she called, not knowing what to say or ask.

Instead of answering, Jane just blinked and continued to look on through her. His hands began to shake and the coffee tumbled from his grasp and onto the ground, soaking into the concrete and the soles of her shoes. Lisbon leaned down to hold onto one of his hands, but he pushed her away from him. Her heart nearly breaking, she moved back before coming to sit down beside him on the bumper of the police cruiser.

They sat in silence side by side until dawn.

**From the start, I knew Angela and Charlotte were not going to make it. I had to, after all, remain canon in some aspects. Happy Independence Day! Stay safe whilst operating your own fireworks within the city limits, if that's your thing...**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**After the last chapter, I surely felt like there was an explosion of feedback, subscriptions, and favouritings. Thank you, everyone! **

**Tabitha - Yes, I do agree with you immensely. Lisbon is not the type to start an affair with a married man regardless of the charismatic charm he has. I've been trying to play off that Lisbon is a bit more naive (especially more towards the beginning) thus far in the story. She has, since the deaths of Angela and Charlotte Jane, opened her eyes a bit. Thank you so much for reading! :)**

**Evonna - Thank you so much! I am really glad that you enjoyed the fresh outlook that Jane and Lisbon had spent the night during the appropriately named_ "reckoning."__  
><em>**

**Guest - Thank you so much! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mentalist_**

Chapter Eighteen

**May 13-21, 2003**

Everything seemed calm. Everything seemed chaotic. There were many words that could be used to describe this situation. Calm, in the sense that an individual felt numb to the rest of the world. Chaotic as to the course of an individual's life after a loved one dies.

For the last two days it has been the same old story. Jane would come into the interrogation room, sit down in the metal chair across from either Cho or Martin, and merely stare blankly at his hands. Occasionally he would shake his head and deny that his wife and child were dead, often stating that he was merely asleep. In the room adjacent, Lisbon found herself leaning against the wall and peering through the one-way glass.

She watched Jane shake his head and bury his face within his hands, his shoulders hunching upwards. "I-I should h-have l-l-listened to m-my wife," he stuttered.

Lisbon shifted against the wall. This was the first sentence they had been able to get from Jane in the last two days. Sure, he'd say the occasional "no," but never a full sentence. His first sentence made her feel like everything had stopped in the world or at least slowed down dramatically.

He suddenly looked up and gazed at his interrogators, and in the fluorescent lighting did Lisbon truly see how horrible he looked. His hair was sticking out in all directions and he could use a shave. His clothing was rumpled; no doubt that he'd been wearing it for the last two days. He was also dreadfully in need of a long shower. Underneath his eyes were dark shadows, almost like bruises. His appearance alone should be evidence that he was not present at his wife and child's deaths. If it were necessary, she would tell the court that Jane had an alibi – that she had been with him at the time of the murders. She felt her throat almost close up at the very thought of admitting to the government that she was having an affair with a married man, whose wife and child had just been slaughtered by the infamous serial killer, Red John.

"What did your wife tell you, Mister Jane?"

Lisbon hated the way the question sounded so cold coming from Cho's lips. He was all business and she greatly admired him for that. But sadly, it hurt her to see Jane's eyes simply glaze over as he averted his gaze towards the one-way glass. Looking straight at her, in a sense. Martin had told them earlier to treat this case just like any other, and this was why Lisbon had not interrogated Jane once. Her boss had taken one small look at her and concluded that she would not be the one to talk to Jane during these trying times.

Jane drew his lips into a thin line and shook his head again, this time burying his face completely in his arms. Across form him, Martin sighed and got up from his seat. Cho started to pull the paperwork and photos back into the file, straightening them up before standing himself.

"We're not going to get much more from him, Cho. Try to get the video footage from the interview." The younger agent nodded in affirmation and left the room without looking back. Martin turned towards the one-way glass and waved Lisbon to come in. Obediently, she nodded her head even though her superior couldn't see her.

She left the observation room and entered interrogation, her eyes looking down at the carpet. "Take him home, Agent," Martin told her.

Looking up and quirking her eyebrow, she spoke, "Sir?"

Martin started to make his ways towards the door. "You and Jane have some sort of connection. Take him home with you, maybe it will do him some good."

She did not think that was best.

"Sir, you don't think he did this—." She looked over at Jane, who was still crumpled over on the table. If he weren't breathing, Lisbon would have suspected foul play.

Her superior didn't reply to her, he merely drew his lips into a thin line and left the room. Though, he gave her one knowing look before he turned away and started to walk back to his office.

Lisbon stood still for a moment, her hands balled up into fists. Letting out a breath she'd been holding, she turned towards Jane and allowed for her gaze to soften. She slowly walked over to him, prodding him in the shoulder. In response, he grunted at her. Smiling grimly at the annoying man, she placed her hand behind his shoulder and tenderly rubbed.

"Come on, Patrick. Let's go."

It took some time, but Lisbon was able to pull Jane away from the metal table. And it took even longer for her to get him to leave the room with her. When he finally decided that it would be all right for him to go with her, Jane held onto her arm tightly as they walked down to the elevators. The only time he relinquished his grip on her arm was when they were in the car driving back to her apartment.

* * *

><p>They were not dead.<p>

He was simply dreaming. Yes, that was it. After the show, he had gone to Lisbon apartment, had sex with her, and fell asleep. He was still asleep. This was all a bad dream.

**They were not dead.**

His baby had not been slaughtered. Blood was not spattered against her pink walls. The master bedroom was not stained russet. He will wake up in a matter of seconds, laughing at himself for the obscurity of all of this. This was all a nightmare. This was not real.

THEY WERE NOT DEAD.

"Patrick?"

The voice beckoning him sounded like it was under-water. Unfocused. Not really there. The hand on his shoulder felt heavy, but not completely there either. It didn't feel real.

"I'm making some tea. Would you like a cup?"

The corner of his right eye twitched. His nose felt itchy. He didn't want a cup of a tea.

Slowly, Jane shook his head. The hand on his shoulder grew heavier, but was slowly lifted away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lisbon stand to her feet and make her way into the kitchen. No doubt, she was making the tea.

One hour passed, and he still sat there. His gaze was trained on a little baseball glove situated on an old shelving unit.

A second hour passed.

A third.

Fourth

Fifth.

The pot whistled.

Jerking at the sound of the teapot clanging against the cooking range, Jane looked over his shoulder to watch as Lisbon poured out to cups of tea. She then added cream, spilling a bit on the counter, and sugar before stirring each cup counter-clockwise.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Lisbon was coming back over to him now, her finger looped inside the teacup handles. She gave him an uneasy smile as she lowered the tea in front of him before she sat down on the floor in front of him. She blew on her tea and took a little sip from it. A slurping sound was heard.

She set the teacup on her knee and cleared her throat. "When my mother died, I didn't know what to do. For the longest time I pretended that I was sleeping and that she was alive, waiting for me to awaken with a huge breakfast down in the kitchen. But every morning I would wake up and the kitchen would be…empty. And I—."

Narrowing his eyes at the teacup, Jane clasped his hands together and watched the steam rise up and swirl into the air. The tea was hot. His nose was itchy. Lisbon took another sip. His heart rate was now racing.

"It's my fault," he whispered.

Lisbon paused, the cup being held just beneath her lips. Lowering it, she gazed at him. It was his fault. He was the reason why they were dead.

NO.

They were not dead.

Across form him, Lisbon reached over to touch his hand. He moved away from her, standing abruptly and moving into her bathroom. He closed the door behind him and locked it. He was glad that she let him.

* * *

><p>Jane was quiet when she drove him back to CBI Headquarters the next morning. He stared out the window the whole time, like a child amazed by the Californian scenery around the car. Well, sans the amazed part. His face was void of any kind of happiness, but full of fatigue and pain.<p>

When they arrived on the serious crimes unit floor and passed the bullpen, Jane stopped. Lisbon was about to turn around and question why he had stopped moving when she heard it clearly.

"_Tormented little man; a lonely soul. Sad, very sad."_

Stiffening, Lisbon reached for Jane and grasped onto his arm. She tugged him towards the interrogation rooms, but he would not move. His eyes were glued to the television as Simmons and Cho went over the video footage. Pulling away from him, Lisbon glanced up to chance a look at Jane's face. And she immediately wished she hadn't.

Agony. Pure agony was plastered across his face, as he seemed to relive what he had said during that interview. Just as she was about to open her mouth and call out to either Simmons or Cho, a throat cleared from behind her. Slowly turning around, she saw Minelli standing a few metres away from her, a Styrofoam cup of coffee in his hands. With his head, he made a gesture for his agents to turn off the footage.

When the television was turned off, Jane blinked. He was far from normal, but he was able to listen to Lisbon's subtle urges for him to move into room three hundred nine. Numbly, he did so and sat down at the metal table once more.

"Come with me, Agent Lisbon," Minelli told her.

Nodding, Lisbon watched as her superior sat opposite of Jane. He had to make another gesture for her to follow in and sit down. She brought her hands into her lap and shifted in her seat.

"Mister Jane, I—."

"It was my fault."

Minelli seemed taken aback by this. Not once had Jane ever admitted to something being his fault. Lisbon exchanged a glance with him, but continued to look forward at Jane. She watched as he brought his hands atop the table, fiddling with them.

"I-I was making so much money," he continued. "I was having s-so much f-fun. I didn't listen to her when she asked me to stop."

Jane seemed to withdraw. Leaning back into his chair, he covered the lower portion of his face with his palm. "I should have listened to her. I should have spent more time at home. I should have stopped. I was making so m-much money. Having too much fun."

Minelli's lips drew into a thin line and he turned around. He made a gesture to the tech behind the one-way glass to stop recording the video. It was evident that they were not going to get anything out of Jane. He was too out of it, too hurt. It would be a long time before he would be able to give them anything worthwhile. Lisbon knew this; she'd seen this grief before. The spouse is guilty and feels responsible for the death of the deceased. Especially if there had been an affair going on….

Biting down on her lip, Lisbon got up from her chair and left the interrogation room.

* * *

><p>On the twenty-first of May, it rained. It splattered all over the black umbrella, dripping down and wetting the already sodden earth. The rain created mud. The mud covered the bottom of his shoes.<p>

He stood in the cemetery where two open graves stood. On the edges of were two tombstones, each with a name engraved in the stone. Jane leaned forward and ran his fingertips over the curves of his wife and daughter's names, closing his eyes and spelling them out slowly. He let the tears that had been in his eyes fall, blending in with the rain-soaked earth below his feet.

The funeral home workers carefully began to lower Charlotte's coffin into the ground. Every time she went down just a mere centimetre, Jane felt his heart clench. That was his baby, his little girl being lowered into the earth. Parents were not supposed to watch their children be buried. He then watched as Angela was lowered down. Guilt consumed him and he remembered what he had told her on their wedding day. He remembered telling her that he would remain ever faithful and protect her.

Then men that put his family in the ground gave him sympathetic glances and slowly began to walk away. Jane merely nodded and tightened his grip on the umbrella, his gaze not leaving the graves. They were gone.

They were dead.

He would never see them again.

It was his entire fault.

Jane's knees sunk down into the wet ground, the mud sinking into his pants. The umbrella fell from his fingers, landing beside him with a slight thud as he leaned forward, grasping onto the grass and slick dirt with his hands. Jane threw his head back and yelled out for his family as the hot tears fell down his cheeks.

Looking up at the sky and not caring that his clothing stuck to him like a second skin, Jane let out another pitiful howl as he felt his heart shatter completely. He let the despair come to him, sink into his very being, and take over. Jane cried out for his lost family once more, knowing that it would do nothing but bring him more pain, as he fell back down to gaze into the earth.

From the distance, Lisbon watched. Her hands held onto an umbrella, though she did not appear to have been using one for she was almost as wet as Jane. She heard him, even from this distance, voice his emotions. Clearly, like a bell, she heard him call out to his late wife and daughter. Her heart was broken, but in a different magnitude than Jane's. It hurt her to see him in so much pain, and to see him consumed with so much guilt. It hurt her to see two innocent lives lost to such an evil person.

She was consumed with guilt. It was choking her.

Tightening her hold on the metal rod, she turned on her heel and left. Every step she took, she felt the tears leak from her eyes and run hot down her cheeks. Trying to walk faster to her car, her foot caught in an exposed root. She lost her balance and tumbled down, the impact with the ground knocking the wind out of her lungs momentarily.

Carefully, she stood herself back up and started to brush off as much of the mud as possible when a prickle to the back of her neck alerted her that someone was watching. With the mud washed off her hands, she turned on the spot to see if anyone in her direct line of sight was watching her. First she glanced at Jane, who was kneeling on the ground looking away.

The sensation heightened and she moved around again, her eyes scanning every direction possible. It started to rain harder, making visibility less possible. So, Lisbon shook her head and blamed it on the events as she started to continue her way to her car.

Lightning cracked in the distance, precisely hitting its target. Lisbon jumped, her heart fluttering in her chest as it tried to return back to its natural rhythm. Letting out a breath she had kept within her, she stepped into her car and turned on the engine.

The cool air conditioning hit her wet skin and she shuddered. Wordlessly, she groped around for her keys. In only a few mere moments, she was gone and heading back to her empty apartment.

* * *

><p>When the rain became too terrible to stay around in, Jane started to make his way back to his car. It was not too far away, but with all the slippery mud, it made it take longer. Fumbling with his keys, he unlocked the car and was about to enter when he saw a plastic bag with a note within it secured underneath his windshield wiper blade.<p>

Plucking it out from under the blade, he turned it over. His eyes glazed over as he read over the four words typed out.

"_And so it begins."_

It was a simple and chaste message. His hands began to shake as the bag dropped from his hands and fell to the cement road. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened the car door. He sat down on the nice leather seats and started his vehicle. Putting it in gear, he pulled away from the curb and made his way out of the cemetery, the car tires driving over the note.

Jane drove until he pulled onto a freeway, where he simply accelerated his vehicle. Momentarily he contemplated suicide so that he could end this madness, but he stopped before he would allow his car to collide with the guardrail. Instead he pulled away and continued on down the road.

As the car propelled forward, Jane watched as the water droplets accumulating on the window slowly slide away. The water would slide down the length of the car before falling behind, falling back onto the asphalt that he had already left behind.

Patrick Jane had just finished one stage of his life, but was beginning the next. Though, he was not quite so sure how it would all turn out quite yet but he was sure about one thing. He was sure that the next one being lowered into a coffin would be Red John. And Patrick Jane was equally sure that he would be the one sending him there.

It has begun.

**End of Part One.**

* * *

><p><strong>It has, thus far, been a truly wonderful ride. I know some parts of this chapter seemed sparse, but in all honesty, human beings tend to blot out certain aspects to dealing with death in a way of protection. Quite honestly, I don't remember much of June for this reason. The simplicity is meant to capture the fragility and chaos of what is truly happening. <strong>


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**Well, here we are! Chapter Nineteen and the beginning of Part Two! Let's just say that this chapter is, in total, about eighteen pages on my computer. **

**Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, subscribed (to me and this story), and favourited! **

**Cat1030 - Thank you for reading and reviewing! Hopefully, in time they can get back together. : )**

**Disclaimer: No, I do not own The Mentalist.**

Chapter Nineteen

Death, in general, shakes an individual to the very core. It throws even the very best off equilibrium.

**December 20 & 23, 2007**

Slamming the car door shut, Lisbon turned around to face the man who rear-ended her. The man, clad in an expensive business suit, glanced down and grimaced at the sight of Lisbon's bumper underneath his. And the coffee stain adorning the front of her shirt, following downward to the badge clipped to her hip.

With a sigh, Lisbon brushed a few stray locks out of her face and surveyed the damage herself. Rotating her slightly sore neck and looking up to glare at the hotshot, she went back into her car to grab a piece of paper and pen.

"Look, Officer, I don't have time for this."

Leaning into her car and pressing the paper down, she looked over at the man. "Can I please have your information, sir?"

"Officer…."

"Can you please tell me your insurance provider, sir? I'm running late for work too."

The man drew his lips into a thin line and crossed his arms over his chest. In a grumbling manner, he informed her of his provider as well as his multiple phone numbers. She thought she might have to pull out her Taser when she had asked him for his driver's license, but was relieved when he reigned in his obvious anger and slapped the identification down on the roof of her car.

After she was done getting his information, she folded up the paper and stuck in her pants pocket. She then turned to him to give her information, and she was almost certain that he momentarily blanched when she informed him that she was an agent rather than an officer.

"Thank you, Mister Waters," she said as she went back into her car.

In totality, she was a little under forty-five minutes late for work. The only one who seemed to know this was Cho, as Rigsby was still busy fumbling around in the kitchenette for his coffee and breakfast sandwich that he had most likely gotten from a fast-food chain.

Agent Roderick Martin died in October of a vicious stab wound. Simmons had witnessed it happen and called the paramedics. The late senior agent had survived until they were about to wheel him into surgery to repair the damage down by the knife, but found they were too late right before they were to administer the anaesthesia. Agent Simmons was slated to become the next senior agent, but he refused and found himself transferring to New York. This left Lisbon or a new agent being transferred in. Minelli saw it fit to give Lisbon a promotion, as she had been working at the CBI for a little over five years.

The next day after she had accepted her promotion, Lisbon had found a large stack of files on her desk. Of course, she had to pick out two new team members. It couldn't be just her and Cho fighting crime alone. After about a week of looking through countless impressive resumes, she decided on one Wayne Rigsby. Sure, his father had been a member of a biker gang, but she saw absolutely no fault in that. Her father had been a drunk. She was certain that Rigsby was a good man.

After delivering her paperwork to Minelli, he then asked her about her second selection. She informed him that she had made no such selection and would like to see how her team could just consist of Cho and Rigsby at the moment. Minelli didn't see any reason in this, but decided that he trusts his new senior agent for a reason and therefore he ought to let her have her way.

To this day, over a month since Rigsby's hiring, Lisbon does not regret her decision once. Even with a slightly rocky start, Cho and Rigsby get along quite well. It took Rigsby awhile to adjust to Cho's dry sense of humour. Now, all she had to wait for was the chance for her team to enhance their ability to close cases accordingly. That was something that had been haunting the serious crimes unit for a while now, and there had been several meetings addressing the issue. And all those meetings surely didn't help Lisbon's ability to sleep.

Well, despite that annoying hiccup of being late, Lisbon stowed away her briefcase and plopped herself down in her swivel chair. She turned on her computer, logged in (took two tries this time), and checked her email. There was the usual spam and newsletters, but nothing new since she had checked it right before she left from the apartment. So, with a sigh, she set to work on some of the paperwork that she had left over from the last case.

Around ten in the morning, Lisbon felt a distinct prickle down the length of her spine. Looking up, her gaze searched through the windows of any sign of anyone watching her. She had told Rigsby more than once to leave her alone since his hiring. Five minutes later, she still felt the eyes on her and she decided to leave the confines of her office to investigate. Walking past the bullpen, she glanced in to see Cho in the middle of writing something down in a file and Rigsby taking the photographs off the bulletin board. Neither men had been watching her.

Glancing around, Lisbon decided that it would be best for her to get a cup of coffee. She had not been able to get a replacement after it had been spilled all over her front – thank goodness for spare clothes – and thought it would be good to get that cup in now rather than later.

After she had poured her coffee and put in the sugar, Lisbon leaned back against the countertop as she slowly stirred. There were certain times when Lisbon felt reminiscent…and she felt like this was one of those times. Setting the stirrer-stick in the sink, Lisbon took a sip of her coffee. It was lukewarm, but that was okay at the moment.

In the last four and a half years, a lot had changed. Alone, her being senior agent should testify to that fact, but for her personally…a lot had changed.

Taking another sip of her coffee, Lisbon rolled her eyes when she heard some of the chatty assistants come towards the kitchenette. For some odd reason, they didn't like to use the little kitchenettes on their own floors. They argued that the refrigerator didn't work as well as the one that belonged to the serious crimes unit.

"Did you see White's new consultant?"

"…his smile!"

"I hear he makes White miserable! White wants him gone…"

Lisbon rolled her eyes again. Of course, they would bring the gossip down to serious crimes. Especially when it had to do with White, another senior agent from the floor below that mostly dealt with narcotics. He was a good man, that Agent White. Had a nice family.

"…White is the second agent to take him on in the CBI!"

"…And before that, he was with Sac PD…"

"Such a charming man…"

"White wants him gone!"

Snorting into her coffee, Lisbon deduced that this consultant was either a charlatan or criminal. Or both, for that matter. She also decided that he would only last two or three more days, knowing how little most consultants stayed with the CBI. It would be less if he were a civilian consultant.

"Something funny, Agent Lisbon?"

Missy Nolan, the "matriarch" of the group of chatty assistants, crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest as she looked over at Lisbon. She also worked for Agent White, which is why the majority of this gossip was coming from her mouth.

Shaking her head, Lisbon lifted the cup to her mouth again. "Not at all, Miss Nolan."

* * *

><p>He was not too fond of Missy Nolan. A large-breasted and tall woman of thirty dressed in revealing clothing whilst working around men gave him a slightly bad taste in his mouth. On his second day, Missy had tried to seduce him with her hooded hazel eyes (though, she wore contacts to make them blue) and lingering touches on his shoulder. He remained polite to Missy, not wanting to upset her in any way shape or form unless she insulted him.<p>

So, to get away from Missy on his third day, he had journeyed down to the serious crimes unit. A few years ago he had spent a lot of time down on that floor, and still to this day did it bring him comfort. Originally, he had wanted to work with the serious crimes for two reasons. One, he liked this unit. Two, they had the Red John case. But Minelli refused to allow him to work with this unit, saying that the lead agent was still new.

A little before ten o'clock in the morning, Jane found himself standing before the lead agent's door. He was shocked, only a little, to see the words "TERESA LISBON" clearly written on the door. But the more that he thought about it, the more he decided that it was logical. Lisbon had been working with the CBI for a long time and no doubt earned herself (and the Bureau) much publicity.

He had retreated back, knowing that she may not receive his presence too well. He had leaned against the wall, eyes trained on her, as she worked meticulously. Lisbon had paused for a moment to look up and around, so he shrank into the shadows a little bit. Then was when he noticed the slight change in her. Well, yes, she was obviously older now. More worn than when he had previously seen her, but now her hair was cropped short and not even touching her shoulders.

When she had gotten up, his eye continued to follow her as she left her office. Predictably, she meandered her way into the little kitchenette area where she started to prepare another cup of coffee. Maybe that was the reason why she was rather short, he mused to himself briefly.

He observed her as she leaned against the counter, occasionally taking sips of her coffee. She seemed to be mulling over her thoughts, not entirely uncommon, as she was a senior agent now. She had a lot to think about nowadays, he assumed.

"_Did you see White's new consultant?"_

"…_his smile!" _

"_I hear he makes White miserable!" _

Jane rolled his eyes in annoyance when he heard the familiar voices of Missy Nolan and her fellow assistants carry over to where he stood. Really, he had come down to the serious crimes to get away from them. But alas, that did not seem to be in the books for him. Though, when he saw Lisbon roll her eyes at the women, Jane found himself smirking.

"…_White is the second agent to take him on in the CBI!"_

"…_And before that, he was with Sac PD…"_

"_Such a charming man…"_

"_White wants him gone! There's a meeting…"_

Lisbon seemed to make a face, somewhat of discomfort into her coffee. Jane could only assume that she was tired of listening to their conversation and wished for them to take it elsewhere.

He watched as Missy Nolan turned to Lisbon, her arms crossing over her supple chest…he was still male, of course. The assistant seemed to be trying to intimidate Lisbon by attempting to make her larger height noted to the agent. Lisbon did not look a bit bothered by that.

"_Something funny, Agent Lisbon?"_

Lisbon shook her head and took another sip of her coffee. _"Not at all, Miss Nolan_._"_

Missy Nolan did not move, but narrowed her eyes even further than before. Jane could easily tell from the distance that neither woman liked the other. This became especially evident when Missy reared back and smirked at the more petite woman.

"_Will you be attending the meeting, Agent Lisbon?"_

Jane noticed Lisbon's expression falter briefly, knowing that she had not heard anything about a meeting. Well, this confirmed Jane's past thoughts that Minelli had been keeping his presence from her, and she from him.

"_Meeting? What meeting?"_

"_The one concerning Patrick Jane, of course! White's consultant, you know."_

Lisbon's expression blanched and her grip became notably tighter around her coffee mug. Jane watched Lisbon excuse herself from the kitchenette, not caring that Missy and her fellow assistants were all smiling at the agent's obvious discomfort. They did not know that Jane had been a consultant previously, but they knew that Lisbon had been outside of the loop for a while now.

She was now heading for Minelli's office, no doubt to interrogate him about what she had just discovered. Jane found it prudent that he eavesdrop on their conversation, to know what exactly Minelli tells her and what she makes of the situation.

Lisbon paused outside her superior's office and took a moment to take a deep breath and straighten her shirt. Once she entered the room, Jane crept closer and stood and against the wall, pressing as close as he could to it.

* * *

><p>When Lisbon moved through the door, Minelli looked up from his computer at the sudden entrance of his newest senior agent. As soon as the door closed behind her, Lisbon diverted her eyes to the closest wall before moving them back to her superior. She felt betrayed, in a sense that he hadn't told her that Patrick Jane had returned to the CBI.<p>

"Lisbon." There was no questioning the surprise in Minelli's voice.

She took another deep breath. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Watching Minelli's facial features go from surprise to guilt was enough to know that he understood. With a resigned sigh, Minelli shifted a bit in his swivel chair so that he faced Lisbon completely.

"Lisbon," he began, "I kept his presence from you because all he wants with the CBI is to use our resources to find and kill notorious serial killer, Red John."

Lisbon blinked. "But my team has Red John, sir."

Nodding, once more in resignation, Minelli drew his lips into a thin line. "He knows that the serious crimes unit has the Red John case, yes."

There was a pregnant pause where no one said anything.

"But he doesn't know I'm in charge, does he." It wasn't a question, for Lisbon was quite certain that Minelli had left that detail out when Jane had started working for the CBI. If he had kept information from her, she was sure that he had kept information from Jane.

Minelli sighed and leaned forward to massage his temples. "No, no Jane doesn't know that you have your own team now." His gaze softening, Minelli leaned back in his chair. "Teresa, I know that you two—."

Before Minelli could say the remainder of his sentence, the door was pushed open with such a force that could only mean that someone was on a quest of sorts. Turning around, Lisbon saw Agent White barrelling into the room.

"I want him gone, Minelli."

Taking a deep breath and rolling her eyes, Lisbon was quite certain that…he was talking about Jane. The man did have a notorious tendency to annoy the hell out of people. Especially his superiors.

"Agent White, I assure you—."

"He has no regard for the rules I lay down for him and he frequently _reads_ into my team's personal backgrounds! I want him gone from my team!"

Lisbon diverted her eyes to the ceiling when she heard Minelli sigh and begin to speak. "I'll draw up the paperwork and change the topic of discussion for this afternoon's meeting. Lisbon, would you please excuse us?"

Her gaze fell on her superior and colleague. Without taking another moment, Lisbon nodded and left the office. Her thoughts were, ridiculously, overwhelmed with memories (and worry) about Patrick Jane. Something she wasn't too overly fond of.

Just as she was about to begin walking away from Minelli's office, she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat a few steps away from her. Stiffening, Lisbon slowly turned to face them and once more found her face blanching at the sight of the blond man before her.

"Patrick…" she whispered, not entirely sure of what to say.

Jane smiled. "Hello, Teresa."

His smile had ignited something inside of her. Fortunately, nothing of the happy sort, for she would want to shoot herself in the foot for that. Instead, she felt angry that he had the audacity to waltz back into the CBI and merely tell her _hello._

"Y-you." She curled her fingers into her palm and fought the urge to punch him in the nose. "What the _hell_ are you doing here, _Jane_!"

Rearing back, slightly, as if she had hit him, his smile stayed the same. Annoyingly so, if she may add.

"I returned to help the police, of course."

Lisbon shook her head, fighting the urge to laugh dryly at him. "No, you came back because of Red John."

Seeing that he didn't falter, which was concerning, Lisbon stiffened. "What are your plans, Jane?" she asked him softly.

Almost playfully, he cocked his head to the side. "Plans?"

"Red John."

Jane made a sort of "aha" face when he took a slight step back and rubbed his palms against the fabric of his waistcoat. "Ah. And what makes you think I have 'plans' for Red John?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lisbon quirked an eyebrow up. "Jane, I see spouses wish to avenge the deaths of their loved ones almost every single day. What makes you so different?"

The smile that was on Jane's face began to falter in appearance. His eyes, however, had surely lost the gleeful gleam that he had been sporting only a few short moments ago. Yes, she had definitely hit a nerve when mentioning his motivations towards Red John.

Casually sliding his hands into his jacket pockets, Jane smiled. It was the kind of grin that set off all warning bells within Lisbon's mind, reminding her that Jane was capable of doing…questionable things.

He leaned in close to her, his breath tickling her ear. "You will figure it out, I'm sure."

Glaring at him, Lisbon held her ground and refused to fall for his charm. There was a sense of mild disappointment present in his eyes when he pulled away from her. Drawing her lips into a thin line, she sidestepped him and walked away. As she walked back down towards her office, her mind couldn't help but wonder where he had been all this time.

After Charlotte and Angela were killed, the media had exploded. Everywhere were periodicals concerning the Jane family and Red John. Not only had Jane's already superfluous amount of fame received a huge boost, but Red John as well. Well, the explosion was more so caused by Jane's impromptu disappearance. For three months after he up and left, the media was buzzing with excitement. Some would even go as far as accusing Jane or saying that he had committed suicide.

Lisbon was almost sure he hadn't committed suicide. The narcissist.

With a heavy sigh, Lisbon plopped herself down in her office chair and swivelled around to pull up her email. Seeing nothing new, she leaned forward and began to massage her temples and fighting the tears from forming in her eyes.

* * *

><p>Jane was about to walk back away when Agent White angrily walked out of Minelli's office. He exchanged one lingering glance at his consultant, giving Jane the idea that he had just lost his consultation job again, and walked off. Honestly, Jane had never really liked White. He was kind of an annoying little worm.<p>

It was not as if Jane wanted to get fired, he just did not get along well with any of the senior agents that Minelli had made him sign a contract with. Also, the supervisor refused to allow Jane to work with the serious crimes. Now he knew why.

Drawing his lips into a thin line, Jane began to walk in the direction towards the elevator when he heard someone clear their throat behind him, similar to what he had done to Lisbon earlier. Pausing, Jane turned around to the sight of Minelli standing behind him, hands pressed to his sides. He looked very worn out today.

"Virgil, how may I help you?" Jane asked, trying to seem cordial rather than slightly perturbed that he had neglected to inform him that Teresa Lisbon still worked in the building.

Minelli, however, did not appear to be so cordial. "Come inside my office, Jane. We need to discuss a few things."

Nodding and glancing over his shoulder, no one around, Jane walked through the open door and into his direct superior's office. The older man gestured for Jane to sit in the chair opposite his desk, to which Jane complied with. After all, Minelli did not appear to want to act cordial this morning.

Minelli sat across from Jane and leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him on the desk. "You no longer report to Agent White." Jane nodded, knowing this much from how the man _rudely_ acted as he left this very office. "You are to collect your things and leave this building until further notice."

Jane nodded again, knowing the drill. "And lastly, whatever you are here for, I want you to stay away from Lisbon," Minelli continued.

There was a dangerous, paternal of a sort type of glint in Minelli's eyes. This caused Jane's interest to instantly hone in one as to why the man would say such a thing. Yes, he was vey assured that Lisbon had been upset when he left abruptly from the cemetery. Leaving in that fashion is not something he is proud of.

"She looks good," Jane started, "a little worn around the edges, but good nonetheless…."

Minelli's gaze sharpened and he licked his lower lip as if to think about what he were about to say. Hunching his shoulders forward, opening his mouth, Minelli was about to speak when he seemed to catch himself on something. His eyes widened, barely, and he tried to make a smooth recovery.

Well, it would have been smooth if a gullible mark were before him. Jane did not count himself as a gullible mark, therefore he knew Minelli was hiding something about Lisbon.

"I repeat. Stay away from her, Jane, it wouldn't be good for her for you to be in her life again."

Jane leaned against his chair, raising an eyebrow and knowing what he was about to ask was completely false. "She's not married, is she?"

Minelli shook his head quickly. "No, no she's not married. A lot has happened since you were gone, Jane."

Searching his employer's gaze, Jane watched as the older man leaned forward and began to massage his temples as if he were fighting a migraine. He probably was, actually. He, Patrick Jane, was once more bouncing to another senior agent (if he would be taken in), he and Lisbon had found out about each other, and he was also hiding something.

"You're dismissed," Minelli told him.

Nodding, Jane stood from his chair and left the office. He would pay the serious crimes floor one last visit before he would head to White's designated bullpen and collect his things. After that, he would head back to his motel and spend the remainder of the day watching documentaries on Animal Planet.

* * *

><p>It was pushing five o'clock in the afternoon, two days before Christmas too, when Lisbon pushed her lukewarm coffee away and leaned on the table before her. Murder cases around the any holiday always sucked the cheer out of the air and brought on a cornucopia of stress to her being. Add that onto paying the bills and having Patrick Jane waltz in out of nowhere made Lisbon want to pull her hair out.<p>

The case of the week, so to speak, was one of the sad variety. A young and wealthy man, Tom Blythe, had been leaving a jewellery store with a newly purchased engagement ring in his pocket. He had wanted to surprise his girlfriend on Christmas morning. When he was passing by an alleyway, high with so much Christmas glee, he was grabbed, roughed up, mugged, and murdered. The Blythe family had asked Minelli specifically for his serious crimes unit to work this case.

And now, after two days, Lisbon just wanted to set the case files alight and watch them burn atop the roof of the CBI. She really wanted to have this case solved before Christmas Eve.

Lisbon briefly considered calling either Rigsby or Cho in, but decided against it. Cho was visiting some relatives in Oakland and Rigsby was spending some time with his girlfriend in Los Angeles. Envying them just a little, Lisbon reached forward and took a sip of her lukewarm coffee.

"Mind if I have a look at that?"

Looking up, coffee mug still pressed to her lips, Lisbon narrowed her eyes. Jane stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. A visitor's badge was clipped to the lapel of his jacket. He was smiling a little.

She set the piece of porcelain down and took a deep breath. She wanted to get home. Correction, she had to get home. So, she nodded in confirmation.

Jane pushed off of the doorframe and came to sit opposite her. Slowly, he reached forward and took hold of the paperwork and started to read over it.

"He was strangled?" Jane raised an eyebrow.

Nodding, Lisbon fiddled with the mug in front of her. "Yeah, he was ambushed, beaten, mugged, and strangled."

Jane seemed to briefly take this into consideration when he flipped through the rest of the papers. After about nineteen minutes of this, he set them down and looked up at Lisbon.

"Is there any tea here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Tea?"

"Yes, they sometimes sell them in individual bags…."

"I know what tea is!" she snapped.

Jane leaned back into his seat and smiled. "Well, then I would love a cup. Would you care for one, Lisbon?"

Lisbon watched as Jane stand and walk out of the bullpen. Curious, she followed him into the kitchenette, where he began to open and close several cupboard doors in search of some sort of tea. Finding some, he pulled the box down and set to work on the electric kettle ("What a marvel in technology!").

He got down two cups and their respective plates of different sizes. The first was white with little green leaves decorated beautifully. The second was small and bright blue.

Setting the little blue one before Lisbon, Jane poured in a little bit of milk then sugar before adding the boiling water. He stirred and pushed it towards her before starting to work one his own.

As she waited for it to cool, she sat down across from where he was standing. "Do you have anything to say about the case?"

"The case?"

"Yes, Jane, the case."

He sat down in his chair and picked up his teacup, blowing on it and watching as the steam rose in spirals. "Tom's brother, James, did it."

Glaring at him, Lisbon leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "How did you come up with that one?"

Jane set his teacup on the little plate. "Let me ask you this, Lisbon. If you were to mug someone." She began to protest. "Wouldn't you bring some sort of weapon with you? All of Tom's injuries were caused by someone hitting him with his fist followed by strangling him and maintaining eye contact. Not really your average mugging."

Lisbon was about to protest, but Jane set his tea down and held up a hand. "James had cuts and bruises on his hands, did he not?"

"Yes. He's a boxer."

"Ah, the perfect alibi."

"Jane, we checked it out. James was with some of his friends that night."

Giving her a brief smile, Jane picked up the teacup again and took another sip. "Have it your way, then," he told her.

Without saying anything else, Jane stood; cup and plate still in hand, and walked away. Lisbon watched him go until he left her sight before she wandered back into the bullpen to re-examine the case files. Ten minutes later, she made the decision to test out Jane's theory and interrogate the brother, James Blythe.

James Blythe resembled his late brother very closely. They had the same hair and eye colour, their skin only a bit off from each other's. The facial features were uncanny. James had invited Lisbon inside, offering her a cup of coffee at this late hour and asked her about how the case was going. She declined the cup of coffee.

"We're still investigating a few leads at present, Mister Blythe," she said.

Nodding, James sat down on the couch farthest away from her and stirred his cup of coffee slowly, his eyes downcast.

"Where were you two nights ago when the murder occurred?" Lisbon asked, notepad and pen in hand.

James looked up from his coffee mug, knuckles turning white as they clasped on tightly to the porcelain. "I-I was at the ring training, Agent Lisbon. Carl and Henry told your agents that."

Ah, Carl and Henry. She remembered that Rigsby didn't like either of them, but that wasn't enough to hold against them.

Cocking her head to the side, Lisbon couldn't help but notice the sweat beading at James's temples. Soon, the sweat droplets began to roll down the length of his head and drip into his shirt collar. The man was nervous; it didn't take someone telepathic to notice this.

Lisbon nodded and scribbled down a few more notes on the paper before looking up again. "Your brother was beaten and strangled, Mister Blythe." She watched as the man blanched and started to shake. "There was no evidence of a weapon used on your brother, and with your training I'm sure you can easily take him."

James quickly stood to his feet, the coffee knocking over and shattering onto the tile floor. Lisbon looked over her notepad at the brown fluid seeping into the cracks and stood.

"Put your hands behind your head," she told him.

With a gulp, James shakily put bruised hands behind his head. Eyeing him closely, Lisbon slowly made her way to him, putting down her notepad on the table. She reached behind to pull out her handcuffs, and as she drew closer to the suspect so she could cuff him, the man quickly lunged for her.

Immediately, Lisbon took a step back in an attempt to get away from him, but James was too fast. His hand grabbed her neck and squeezed down on her windpipe. Instinctively, Lisbon dropped her handcuffs to the ground and opened her mouth to gasp for air. Her hands began to claw at James's hands, failing to get any sort of reaction from him other than murderous rage.

"I will not go down for this," he said in a dangerous tone.

Lisbon began to see black spots clouding her vision as she fought herself to maintain a level head. She began to scan her thoughts, take inventory of what all she had on her person, until her thoughts landed on her Taser.

Clumsily, Lisbon reached back and pulled out the weapon and pressed it against James's upper hip. The man loosened his grip briefly to look down, and before he could do anything else, Lisbon pressed the switch down.

He dropped her to the floor and fell to the ground. James's body continued to convulse as the electric shocks still moved throughout his body. Lisbon tried to lean against the couch as she fumbled for her cell phone. Finding it, she flipped it open and dialled for backup and an ambulance.

Heart beating wildly, Lisbon felt the cell phone fall from her grasp and clatter to the floor. She tried to breathe, but found it difficult. Trying to take a deep breath, she swallowed in hopes that it would help. Instead she jerked weakly and as sharp pains hit her throat. The black spots continued to float around in her vision and soon she felt the darkness grow bigger and bigger. She tried to push it away, all that blackness. But it soon engulfed her and she felt nothing.

* * *

><p>After he had all but given Lisbon the murderer on a silver platter, Jane had walked back up to the attic. Since his return to CBI, he had only been up here twice. The first was the day he started his consultation with Agent Finn, and the second was when he tired to stay away from Missy Nolan. Honestly, he would have come up here more than he had been, but the place was so dusty. It was obvious that it had not been tended to in a long time.<p>

He finished up his tea and set the cup aside to gaze out the window. Shifting his stance, he shrugged the sleeve of his jacket down so he could rub away some of the dust and grime to make it easier for him to see outside. With a small smile, he leaned against the small, rickety desk and watched as a plane flew by overhead.

Taking in a deep breath, he sighed. After the Holiday Season he would go back to Minelli and negotiate a way back into the CBI. Preferably, he would be placed on Lisbon's team, but he was certain that Minelli would put him elsewhere. The older man had been very protective of her and wished for him not to know something concerning her. That, or his abrupt departure had affected Lisbon in a way he had not foreseen.

Shaking his head at those thoughts, Jane decided to walk back down towards the kitchenette. Once down, Lisbon was nowhere in sight. Her blue teacup lie atop its saucer on one of the café table, it was no doubt lukewarm by now.

Cleaning up her tea, Jane looked down at the blue teacup and traced his fingers over the porcelain. There was a slight scratch in the side. The human eye could not see it, but it could most certainly be felt with his thumb. Smiling, he poured out the tea and washed out the cup. He then set it aside to dry.

Some movement caught his peripheral, and he turned to see Lisbon walking towards the elevators and shrugging on her jacket. She was checking up on the lead that he had helped her with. She ought not go alone, the Blythe brother being a boxer and all. So, Jane decided that he would wait a good twenty or so minutes before he would call Minelli.

* * *

><p>She jiggled the keys in her hand as she walked up the stairs leading to her apartment. Her body ached and all she really wanted to do was take a hot bath and go to sleep. She could almost smell the deliciously clean bubbles now.<p>

Minelli wasn't too happy with her, as she went in without backup. He insisted on her being checked out by the paramedics before she was to go home. She actually debated driving above the speed limit in order to return her CBI issue sedan back to pick up her Mustang.

Unlocking the door to her apartment, she pushed open the slightly stubborn door and tossed the keys onto the kitchen table nearby. She placed her hands on the lapels of her jacket and was about to start shrugging it off as she surveyed the room. Yes, everything was still in order after a mildly chaotic day. The fake Christmas tree still stood proudly in the corner, creatively decorated and with presents littered underneath it in bright paper. The light near the couch was lit, and a plump elderly woman sat at the end with a book in her hands.

The woman was in her mid-seventies, her hair short and grey. Her aged face was downcast as she turned a page in her book. Lisbon cleared her throat, causing the older woman to glance up.

"She's already asleep, Teresa," Barbara Norris said from her position on the couch. "Finally convinced her an hour ago."

Nodding, Lisbon proceeded to shrug off her jacket and hang it up. "Was she good today?"

Barbara nodded and stood, stretching her back and groaning a little as a knot apparently made its way into the middle of it. "She was good. Ate everything I set in front of her, played nicely at the park, and took a bath when I asked."

"But she didn't go to sleep when you asked her to," Lisbon deadpanned, knowing the answer to that already.

Shrugging and starting to gather her things, the elderly woman took a brief moment to glance up. "She was worried about her mother." Lisbon's gaze softened. "Ever since Cooper Downs's father died, she's been worried about you."

Cooper Downs frequently played in the very same park that Rosie liked to play in, and the two would often play on the slide together. The two children liked to talk about how both of their parents were police officers, and ever since Cooper's father died in the line of duty, Rosie always wanted to be awake when her mother got home. With her work hours, sometimes that wasn't possible. And she was just grateful that Barbara was willing to stay over until she was to come home.

Lisbon smiled. "Thank you, Barbara." The older woman simply waved her off, as if telling her that it was nothing. "I mean it."

"Teresa, I had been alone for fifteen years before you moved in with little Rosie. You not only have given me something to do with my days, but also some company. I should be thanking you," Barbara justified.

The older woman picked up her purse and plopped her book down at the bottom. Standing up straight, she glanced back at Lisbon. Quickly, she frowned and set her purse down to come closer.

Placing her hands on her hips, Lisbon knew what Barbara was looking at. She knew that by now the bruises on her neck were present.

Barbara sighed. "What happened this time?"

"A suspect didn't want to come in," she stated simply.

The older woman nodded. "What does he look like?"

"I hit him with my Taser," Lisbon assured her.

Nodding again, Barbara went back to pick up her purse. Hoisting it over her shoulder, she started to make her way towards the door. Pausing, as she was about to open it, she looked over her shoulder at Lisbon. "I saved a plate of macaroni and chicken fingers in the refrigerator for you."

With a smile, Barbara left the apartment. Lisbon waited to hear the final click of the door locking before she walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out the plate that was wrapped in holiday inspired Saran. She placed it in the microwave for a minute and thirty seconds and headed up the stairs.

In her bedroom, Lisbon unclipped her badge from her hip and removed her gun holster. She placed her weapon in the secure lockbox and into the drawer of her end table. Securely locking the drawer, Lisbon rubbed the back of her neck and started off down the hall and a little bit to the right.

Carefully, she pushed the closest door open. Lisbon was careful to keep the lights from her bedroom from penetrating the nightlight-lit room.

With a sigh, Lisbon made her way into the room and pulled the door behind her slightly closed. Walking over to the bed, Lisbon leaned over and brushed some stray dark blonde curls away from the young child's face.

Under her mother's touch, the young girl stirred from her slumber and opened her eyes. Blinking and yawning, the girl reached out and touched one of her plump, little hands to her mother's face.

"You're home, Mommy!"

Lisbon smiled and took hold of her daughter's little hand and pressed a soft kiss to the knuckles. "Nana Norris and I," Rosie paused, mulling over what she was to say next. "Nana Norris and I waited for you to come home."

"She told me," Lisbon nodded. "Now, it's now time for you to go back to sleep."

Rosie began to pout, her blue eyes narrowing in ways that reminded her of herself in the annual "behind the scenes Lisbon-family portraits." Seeing that her daughter was about to bring out the inherited stubborn-gene, Lisbon cocked her head to the side as if to challenge the little girl briefly.

"Five more minutes." Rosie was still pouting.

Lisbon moved to sit on the edge of her daughter's bed. Leaning over for long periods of time didn't do her any favours. "Two more minutes," she said.

Seeming to think this over, Rosie decided that it was better than no minutes. The little girl snuggled back under the blankets before asking, "Did you catch the bad guy?"

"Yes, I did," she nodded. "He's going away for a long time."

They spoke in the relatively dark room for the next minute, and that was when Lisbon started to note that Rosie was about to fall asleep. Her daughter had stopped talking, and was more so listening to the story her mother was telling her. After the two minutes had passed, Lisbon leaned down to press a kiss to Rosie's cheek and readjusted the blankets to ensure that the girl was nice and warm.

Lisbon continued to sit there, watching Rosie in silence. The little girl was petite with dark blonde curls just past her shoulders. Lisbon suspected that her hair would eventually turn into a lighter brown, similar in a sense to hers. Rosie's eyes were a dark blue and no doubt would become a wonderful shade of green. Lisbon was just thankful that her daughter bore more resemblance from her maternal side rather than paternal.

Taking in a deep breath, Lisbon stood from Rosie's bed and started to leave the room. She paused at the doorframe and looked back, watching as her daughter turned over in her sleep. Smiling back softly at her daughter, Lisbon walked back into her bedroom for the remainder of the evening.

Patrick Jane was still on her mind, however. It didn't take a psychic (or a detective, really) to realise that his ass was on the line with the CBI. No one would take him on as their consultant because he simply pissed everyone off.

He was helpful, that much was true. Jane would remedy any of her worries of closing cases, but he would also be the cause of a superfluous amount of stress that would enter her mind if she were to take him on as a consultant.

There was also the Red John issue. She had custody of the Red John files, and by taking Jane on; he'd have the chance to nab them. It wasn't a good idea to get him involved with Red John. She didn't know why she thought, but it was just a feeling she got.

Sighing, Lisbon leaned back against the pillow and clasped her hands over her belly. Taking in another deep breath, Lisbon closed her eyes and allowed sleep to take her.

**Do some people want to throw rotten fruit me? If so, please do such kindly. Because I'm almost certain people expressions went from (maybe) O_O - O_o o_O - O_O**

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	21. Chapter Twenty

**Please note that I'm back at university! Wahoo! That is, by the way, reason number two as to why this chapter has taken forever to be uploaded. Reason number one is connected to university... :p**

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Chapter Twenty

**January 5, 2008**

Lisbon nursed her freshly brewed coffee as she leaned her hip against the table, her mind nowhere near the confines of her apartment. Instead, her thoughts kept on drifting to Patrick Jane, the man that had abruptly disappeared from her life four and a half years ago and spontaneously returned. Though this had eased some of the worry she had felt for the bastard, it did make everything much more stressful. For one, he had to be good at whatever it is that he does or else she wouldn't be considering taking him on as her…consultant.

Minelli would think that she'd gone crazy.

"Mommy, look! I made a kitten!"

Being jarred from her thoughts at the sound of her daughter's voice, Lisbon placed her coffee cup down on the kitchen table and moved over to Rosie. The little girl had taken to moving around her soggy, yet still warm, bits of pancake around her plate to create various shapes. It appeared that Rosie had, to some extent, successfully managed to create an image of the feline persuasion.

Smoothing her daughter's messy hair down, Lisbon smiled. "I see that, sweetie."

Her little girl beamed at the term of endearment and then glanced back down at her plate. "I'm done!"

Smiling, and knowing that her daughter never ate something animal shaped because it would 'hurt the thing's feelings', Lisbon knew not to pressure her daughter into finishing the pancake. Instead, she scooped up the plate and dismissed her daughter to go play after she had wiped her sticky hands off on the damp towel.

After cleaning up the dishes, Lisbon's mind drifted back to her possible consultant. Taking Jane on as a consultant would not only reopen several old wounds, but it would leave her vulnerable for new ones. He knew too much about her from years ago and he would instantly know that something was different. Well, that much was obvious. A lot changed in a span of nearly five years, but he would sense that something much larger had happened to her since his untimely departure.

Setting the kitchen rag down by the sink, Lisbon leaned against the counter. Biting her lip and chewing the flesh between her teeth, Lisbon knew deep in her heart that she had to tell Jane about Rosie if she were to work with him. The secret would eat away at her like a festering wound and no doubt when he would eventually figure it out, everything would be so much worse for her than if she had merely told him the truth.

It wasn't as if she set out trying to hide Rosie from him, anyway. He'd disappeared without a trace. On the contrary, she would love it if Rosie were able to know her father…and be able to spend adequate time with him.

With a sigh, Lisbon moved out of her kitchen in search of her cell phone. Step one of telling Jane that he'd fathered a child, and offering him position on her team, would be to call him. Taking his phone number from his file (she'd picked it up Friday afternoon before coming home, just in case she would call him), Lisbon flipped her phone open and began to shakily dial.

She waited for a period of time, sitting down on her couch and staring at the number, before she flipped her phone shut and leaned back against the cushions. Lisbon counted to twenty, took a deep breath, and opened her phone. She took one last glance at the number on the screen and pressed the little green button with her thumb.

With one last deep breath, she held the phone up to her ear and waited for Jane to answer. After three rings, he did just that. As soon as he answered, her eyes were fixed to a sticky-note with a children's drawing on the other side of the room.

"_Hello?"_

"Jane," she said the first thing that had come to her mind (his name, of course), and instantly cursed herself for how she sounded like a dewy-eyed schoolgirl.

"_Ah, Teresa, it is good to hear your voice. How are you on this fine morning?"_

Lisbon diverted her eyes from their fixed position and sat up straighter. "Jane, I need to talk to you."

_Good job, Teresa_, she thought, _you sounded confident. _

"_Oh? Whatever for?"_

"Just…." Her eyes moved back to the children's drawing. "…Asking about something case-related."

There was a brief moment where neither spoke, that is until she heard the man move around wherever he was on the other line. _"No, you want to talk to me about coming to work with you."_

"No…."

"_How did you get my number?" _

Lisbon rolled her eyes, all concerns about asking him to be her consultant flying through the window as she grew annoyed with the man. "Minelli gave it to me."

"_Liar."_

"I'm not lying to you."

"_Bad_ _liar."_

Rolling her eyes once more, Lisbon deducted that she felt that they were bantering like in the old days. Well…days when he was still married.

Jane chuckled and sighed. _"You tell me the time and place, my dear."_

Scanning her thoughts for possible meeting places, preferably away from the usual spots that Missus Norris takes Rosie, Lisbon's mind came to one place around downtown Sacramento. "Meet me at the Park Plaza at three?"

There was a beat before Jane said anything else. _"As you wish,"_ he said.

* * *

><p>Tugging the warm jacket closer to his body, Jane shifted in his seat. He had yet to decipher why Lisbon would like to meet him outdoors in January rather than inside a nice, cozy teashop. A coffee shop would have worked as well, he could get a water. They never could brew tea correctly.<p>

It was also overcast. The clouds overhead had a nasty grey look about them, indicating that rain was very possible.

Despite the notion that he was eagerly awaiting Lisbon's company, he would hope that their meeting at Park Plaza would be chaste and that they would move into the shop a couple of blocks away. The one with a really good central heating system.

When he hears the crunching of death leaves below her feet, he turns to her. Before him she stood, hands in her pockets and her chin tucked into her jacket just a little bit. She appears to be regretting her decision to meet outside on a day like this, he mused.

"Hello, Teresa," he smiled. "What do I owe this visit to?"

She diverted her eyes. "You already know," she growled.

Jane caught her eyes with his and rubbed his hands together in a futile effort to warm them. "I know Virgil would not like it if you were to take me on as your consultant." She raised her chin. "He doesn't support the idea of you and I working alongside one another. Why? I have yet to work that out."

Under his gaze, Lisbon shifted in her footing. She played with her fingers and looked away once more. She was hiding something…interesting.

"I'm looking to improve the closed-case numbers," she began, her eyes apparently finding a bit of dirt on her shoes more interesting than the conversation.

Despite that he was sure that she did indeed want to improve the number of cases closed, Jane couldn't help but notice that there must be another reason why she wanted to have this conversation. It was made even more obvious by her desire to have the aforementioned conversation in a public place. Public, but open enough for people not to listen in on the conversation. There was something else, something personal.

"I-I had a baby, Jane," she said, her voice uneven.

The mention of her progeny caused Jane to pause, but his gaze avoided hers. "A daughter," she added.

Overhead, a bolt of lightning cracked and lit the sky.

He felt hurt, upset, and conflicted. Lisbon shivered and slowly wrapped her jacket tighter around her body. "I would have told you, b-but I didn't know where you were." Jane looked down at the ground when she said this. "You were gone before I even knew that I was pregnant."

Most of all, he felt like a failure. Because he knew that the child was his.

* * *

><p>Looking back at her, Jane's gaze drifted from her face, down to her belly. Lisbon felt self-conscious, knowing that he was examining her midsection for any sign that she had been with child.<p>

God, she didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. And rain just started to fall from the sky to boot.

"What's her name?" he asked, obviously swallowing out of nervousness.

"Elizabeth Rose Lisbon, but everyone calls her Rosie." Lisbon fiddled with an imaginary piece of dirt under her fingernail. "Uh, she was born January the ninth."

She watched Jane nod and reach up to tap his lower lip. "Was she born early?"

Out of all of the questions to ask, Jane had to ask whether or not she was born on the correct date. She had assumed that he would ask 'what's her favourite colour' or 'what does she like to eat,' but nevertheless the man managed to surprise her.

"Yeah, she was due in February, but she obviously had other plans," she chuckled nervously and rolled back and forth on her heels. Her hands had taken residence in her pockets.

Lisbon looked back at him and noticed the pain evident on his face. For one, he was looking downward. Second, his eyebrows were drawn together. Third, his lips were parted. This was classic Jane when he was upset.

She stepped closer and moved one of her hands out of the pockets. Carefully, she rested it on his forearm and gave him a slight squeeze. She didn't like getting this close to him, or much of anyone for that matter, but she felt that it was necessary.

This was only a one-time thing, of course.

"How about a cup of tea?" He looked up at her, a slight smile slowly spreading across his features.

* * *

><p>By five o'clock in the afternoon, rain was falling from the sky in near-torrential amounts. It was too warm outside for snow, but cold enough for a person to feel chilled to the bone.<p>

Lisbon had called Minelli right after her conversation with Jane and asked for him to meet her at the CBI. She didn't tell him exactly why she wanted to meet with him, but nevertheless her superior arrived on time and stood in the center of his office when she walked in.

"I want to take Jane on as my consultant," she said firmly, her eyes staring straight into Minelli's as she came further into the room.

The older man stood rigid, not liking the scenario that she just set up. Sighing, the older man looked up and stared. "What did you just say?" he asked, not sure what to think of her previous statement.

Shifting her footing and briefly looking down at her shoes, Lisbon looked up and at Minelli once more. "I want Jane on my team, sir. I believe that he will be a valuable member on my team."

Nodding, Minelli turned his back to her. "I thought that's what you said."

His voice sounded almost sad, but also as if he knew that she was going to tell him this. Cocking her head to the side, Lisbon spoke, "Sir?"

Minelli turned back to face her. "When Jane first came to me, I knew that he wanted the Red John case. I could see it in his eyes."

She nodded, knowing that he did indeed want it. To the extent of what he would do with the information, she didn't know. But she had her suspicions that revenge was on his mind.

"I also thought that it wouldn't be in your best interests to interact with Jane," he continued.

"Sir?" she asked again. "My best interests?"

"Teresa." She stiffened at the sound of her given name. "I know that when he was a consultant, the last time, and you were on Martin's team that there was something going on between the two of you."

Lisbon suddenly felt like the teenager that had made her father disappointed. "His leaving hurt you, everyone could see that. Then several weeks later you came to my office to inform me of your pregnancy."

"And you think Rosie is Jane's?" she asked carefully.

With a knowing look, it confirmed her suspicions. It occurred to her that Minelli knew that Jane had fathered Rosie. Obviously, she'd never explicitly stated that they had been romantically involved. Well, not sense their 'little' argument in the middle of the CBI years ago.

"Does anyone else know about this?" Her question was phrased and asked in the exact same manner as the one she had stated earlier.

Minelli nodded. "Cho knows."

"Cho?" Her eyebrows rose up.

The older man nodded again. "Yes, Agent, Cho knows."

Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks knowing that her second-in-command recognised that she and Jane had been sexually active, she deflected her eyes. She remembered Cho watching them, but she found it overall very vague. Though, he did work at the CBI at the time that she and Jane had that 'little' spat around the kitchenette.

Minelli sighed. "If you really want him on your team, I won't stop you."

She looked up. "Oh, I don't want him on my team." Minelli gave her an odd look. "I just…want to improve the closed case numbers."

"So you say," Minelli mumbled.

Lisbon glanced down again. "Teresa, whenever there's a Red John case, please take him off of it. I don't need a loose cannon running around the state of California on a personal quest for revenge."

"Understood, sir."

Minelli gave Lisbon one last sigh before he moved to sit down behind his desk. No doubt the paperwork would have to be drawn up and then promptly delivered to Jane. The idea of working with the man again had her heart beating a rapid thumping inside her chest.

"Does he know?" Minelli asked, his hand hovering over a drawer where he held the paperwork for consultations.

Lisbon shoved her hands back in her pants pockets. "Yeah, he knows."

* * *

><p>Pulling into the instructed parking lot, Jane quickly moved his vintage Citroën into a free space. He glanced out the window, past the droplets that had formed due to the seemingly endless rain, and up to the apartment across the lot. The lights were alight on the lower floor, indicating that the inhabitants were there or possibly asleep on the second.<p>

It'd been a long day, he mused. After spending a few weeks on speculating how Lisbon's life had changed in the last four and a half years he was gone, he finally got his answer. She had hah a child. And not just any child, but his.

An influx of both guilt and love came to the forefront of his mind. Unconditionally, without meeting Rosie, he found himself loving her. But the sense of guilt, that he is betraying his family further than he already had in the sense that he loved his 'new' daughter. Well, that was only some of the guilt. Another large portion was due to the fact that he'd been of both Rosie and Lisbon's lives for nearly five years.

Killing the engine with a swift movement of his wrist, Jane pocketed his keys and pushed the car door open. As soon as he stepped out of the car, he was quickly moving to the front door where he quickly rapped his knuckles against the fine wood.

There was a brief pause followed by the sound of someone moving closer to the door and then bracing themself against it to check through the peephole. The weight was lifted from the door and Jane heard the wondrous sound of the lock unclicking and the door opening.

Lisbon stood before him; she wore a navy sweatshirt and black sweatpants. Her hair was down, framing her face in a way that he decided that he rather liked. Slightly messy and bringing a shadow to enhance the contours of her cheek, a beautiful sight.

"Jane."

He nodded and huddled closer towards the interior of the room, which he gathered to be the kitchen area. "May I come in?"

She seemed to mull this over for a few seconds before she crossed her arms over her chest and stepped to the side. Giving her a smile, Jane stepped out of the rain and into the warmth of Teresa Lisbon's home.

It looked freshly moved in, with boxes still in the kitchen and living room. Numerous drawings were held onto the refrigerator by a magnet, mostly of ones illustrating beach days and 'my family' portraits.

He peeked around to look into the living room, where he saw the television on mute and a little girl kneeling on the carpet. Her hair was a shade of dark blonde and had curls with a natural bounce to him. Similar to Charlotte. Her face was shaped like his and her nose like Lisbon's. Her eyes, though, were blue in colour, but he was sure that they would turn into a shade of green. He hoped they would look more like Lisbon's.

She was in the middle of playing with a large doll made of fabric. The little girl was pretending that the doll was walking across the floor and saying some type of gibberish he couldn't understand from the kitchen.

Hearing the sound of a cupboard opening and closing, Jane lost his focus on the little girl and turned back to Lisbon. Without even having to ask, Lisbon already started to pick up a teapot and put water in it from the sink. She then followed to put it on the stove and turn on the heat. It was touching that she thought about doing such without asking him.

"Minelli called me. He has some paperwork for me to sign."

Lisbon nodded and turned around to lean against the counter. "Yeah, I talked to him."

Cocking his head to the side, as if to study her, Jane learned that Lisbon had a bit of a surprise today. Well, other than his sudden appearance on her doorstep.

"What did the two of you talk about?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You."

Well, that seemed the most that he was going to get out of her that way.

The kettle began to boil and Lisbon turned to tend to it. "Remember to put the milk in first, please," he told her.

Lisbon shot a glare over her shoulder before walking over to the refrigerator and pulling out the milk. Jane watched as she put a little too much in; a smile grew on his face.

Pausing, Lisbon turned to look at him. "What?" she demanded.

Moving his shoulders up and down, Jane gestured to the little cup. "There's a bit too much milk in that."

The look on Lisbon's face was almost murderous. It was as if to say that she was only making him a cup of tea, and obliging to his preference of milk in first, out of the goodness of her heart. Apparently, he was taking advantage of that goodness.

Without another word, Lisbon reached for the kettle, flipped the top open, and poured the hot water over the milk. Steam rose up and coiled neatly. She then put the teabag in and placed the tea in front of him.

He was about to ask about the sugar when she tossed a few little packets onto the table before him. Not making any comments, Jane tore open two of the sugar packets and dumped them into his tea before completing the preparation.

Lifting up the cup to blow on it, he diverted his eyes over to where Rosie had been playing. She was gone, most likely shy because of this strange man in her home. Especially one that was extremely…wet. Something tells him that she got that little tidbit of behaviour from her mother.

Lisbon sat across from him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Why are you here, Jane?"

He took a sip. It tasted…passable.

"I wanted to thank you." She narrowed her eyes. "For taking me on as your consultant."

Placing the cup back down on the table, he fiddled with the handle. Lisbon took a deep breath and was about to say something, but a question he wanted answered sprung to mind. "What's Rosie's favourite colour?"

Immediately closing her mouth, Lisbon shifted in her seat. "She doesn't have one."

"Favourite breakfast food?"

"She really likes blueberry pancakes."

"Lunch?"

"Jane."

Pushing the tea aside, Jane leaned against the table on his forearms. "You're conflicted," he told her. "You're not sure if you want me in her life or not."

She stayed silent for several moments, her eyes locked on her hands and then at his. He still wore his wedding ring, something that probably upset her. It made him feel uncomfortable now, too. The ring almost felt as if it were burning him.

"I'm not sure if I want you in my life, either," she said, "but the CBI needs you."

Her words hurt him, but he already knew that she would have a reaction akin to wanting him away from her. He did leave her without any warning while she was pregnant with his daughter. That still did not mean that they didn't hurt.

"There's something else," he said.

Jane watched as Lisbon's eyes danced around the room. She was trying to avoid the topic as easily as she could, but he refused to let that happen.

"No—."

"Mommy?"

Seizing up just a little at the sound of Rosie's voice, Jane slowly looked around Lisbon at the little girl who snuck upon them. Rosie also appeared to be hiding behind her mother's chair.

"Why is, why is he wet?"

Lisbon turned around in her chair to face Rosie, a smile appearing on her face. "He was running around in the rain, sweetie."

Rosie looked confused. "Why?" she asked.

"Uh—."

Smiling, Jane sat up straight, despite the discomfort, in his chair. "Because I couldn't wait to see your mother," he told the little girl.

"Why?"

"Uh, Mister Jane is a really old friend of Mommy's," Lisbon said. "We haven't seen each other in awhile. Because he moved away." She added the last bit quickly, most likely knowing that Rosie was going to ask 'why' again.

Rosie's eyes grew huge. "Did you move to, um, Chic-a-go?"

Jane couldn't help the smile that appeared on his face. The way Rosie phrased her question was just…priceless. And the small chuckle that Lisbon made was a nice touch, as well.

"Oh, I lived in Chicago for a little bit."

"You did?"

"Really?"

Rosie grew very excited. Lisbon was just confused.

Nodding, Jane leaned over and watched as Rosie moved away from behind her mother's chair and moved closer to him. She reminded him a lot of Charlotte, even more so up close. "Yes, I did. For about a month."

"A month?"

"A month," he restated.

The little girl seemed to be thinking over what he had just conveyed to her. Nevertheless, she seemed quite excited that he had told her how long he had lived in Chicago. "That's a, a really long time!"

He felt his grin grow bigger. "Yes it is."

Rosie was about to say something, but Lisbon stood from her chair and knelt down beside her daughter. "Rosie, sweetie, I think it's time for you to go upstairs and get ready for bed."

She shook her head defiantly, the little curls bouncing. "No."

"Elizabeth."

"No!"

Cheerfulness was gone from Lisbon's face in a heartbeat, replaced by a mother truly wanting her child to leave the room. "Elizabeth Rose Lisbon, you will listen to me when I tell you to do something. Go upstairs and put on your pyjamas."

Pouting, Rosie crossed her little arms over her chest in the most resilient way that she could. Lisbon continued to give her the 'displeased parent' look until Rosie moved away and started walking (with very heavy stomps) towards the staircase. Jane found himself chuckling.

"She gets that from you, you know," he mused. "The attitude when something doesn't go her way."

Lisbon's eyes snapped to his, narrowing at the sound of his voice. "You don't even know her," she said bitterly.

The previous grin disappeared from Jane's face as soon as the words left her mouth. It hurt, what she said to him. He felt his heart stop for a brief moment and then slowly return to normal. In the pit of his stomach, Jane felt sick. Lisbon's icy stare didn't lower the amount of emotional guilt and pain flittering about in his head.

"Then let me."

As soon as he had learned about Rosie's existence, he found it imperative that he met with the child. After Charlotte's death, Jane couldn't see him being a father again. Being around children, yes, but actually fathering a child seemed impossible. As did finding a wife, now. But as soon as the reality that he had another child, Jane knows that he has to be in her life.

Lisbon's gaze softened and she looked down at her hands. "I'm not sure if I can," she said.

Leaning back into his chair, Jane tapped a steady rhythm on the table. He knew why Lisbon didn't want him, for the most part, to be in Rosie's life. She didn't quite view him as a stable figure to be around their child.

**Note: This chapter had to be done this way. And I'm trying to remain faithful to Lisbon's more "jaded" personality of the early first season. She'll loosen up in due time. **


	22. Chapter TwentyOne

**Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited! :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist.**

**Cat1030 -Thank you! I do believe that Lisbon would tell him sooner rather than later. Even though she sat on it for about two weeks or so. **

**Eldanar - Thank you! :)**

**Guest - Yes, Rosie was conceived the night Angela and Charlotte died. I haven't made up my mind if Jane realises this or not... Thank you for reading and reviewing! :)**

Chapter Twenty-One

**September 2, 2008**

Missing person's cases were never a good break from the usual homicide. Especially when the victim has been missing for over seventy-two hours, which meant that the 'break' would no longer be classified as such. Which, just three hours ago, it was ruled as a homicide caused by a young (and slightly creepy) boy.

And Lisbon had more than enough paperwork because of Jane. She'd just, thankfully, finished working through all the tedious papers to get her new rookie, Grace Van Pelt, to come into Sacramento and begin work in about two weeks.

The girl was from a small town in Iowa. She would have a lot to get used to. Lisbon just hoped that she would actually get used to Sacramento (and Jane) and stay for more than a week.

So far, Van Pelt was the third rookie to come this year. Armstrong was the first and lasted a week, then Diaz. Diaz didn't even last forty-eight hours.

A knock on the door snapped Lisbon out of her paperwork-induced reverie. Looking up, she saw Jane standing in the doorway, a smile plastered on his face as he walked into her office with a pink moleskin diary held in his hands.

It was time to go, that much she knew. The Tolliver family was holding a highly publicised, also known as televised, announcement of gratitude for all the law enforcement that had been working diligently in finding their beloved daughter.

"We should talk to the father," he said.

Lisbon stood to her feet and sighed. It wasn't the first time Jane had suggested that they talk to Morgan Tolliver, the now grieving father.

Picking up her jacket from the coat hanger, Lisbon pulled her arms through the holes and tugged it forward. "The McClusky boy did it."

Jane shook his head. "I'm not too sure about that."

Lisbon straightened up her desk a bit and shot a glare in Jane's direction. His statement meant that he was going to do something that would, without a doubt, result in another complaint being added to his file. Which meant that she'd be filling out more paperwork tonight.

"McClusky gave Tolliver the creeps."

"He cared about her, in his own unsettling way. That doesn't mean he killed her," Jane said as he took a step closer to her. "You need to talk to the father."

Lisbon diverted her eyes and snatched the keys to the Suburban off of her desk. "We're running late."

* * *

><p>Jane did not know why Lisbon was so damn stubborn about the Tolliver case. From the beginning, he'd been telling her to check out the father. And of course, she refused to do such. This was because she just did not wish for him to be right, he thought. Right again.<p>

He smirked and glanced over at Lisbon, whose eyes were directly in front and facing the road. He would find a way to prove that there was more than meets the eye to Morgan Tolliver. He'd read the diary; he knew how uncomfortable the Tolliver girl had been around her father. No doubt she decided not to have sex with him anymore, leading to great anger to the man.

Though, the image of a grown man forcing a teenaged girl, his daughter, to submit to his desires caused Jane's stomach to churn and ache. Tolliver was damn lucky to have had a daughter as decent as he did, but the fact that he was responsible for her death made Jane want nothing more than to kill him at first glance. Daughters were a special gift for their fathers to love and protect, not hate and exploit.

To ease his discomfort, Jane curled his fingers and looked out the window as the car drew nearer to its destination. He felt Lisbon take one last look at him once she pulled up to the Tolliver's residence and said nothing. Instead, she turned off the car and stepped out into the madness.

He followed her, too. And everything was quite a sight. Reporters ran around the neighbourhood with cameras and microphones, their desire to get a glimpse of the grieving family snuffed out any sense of decency. Not that Jane really cared, anyway, as Morgan Tolliver was a vile bastard.

Though, he did feel a semblance of pity for the McClusky boy, who was being shoved into the back of a squad car loudly proclaiming that he "didn't do it!" Jane believed him, of course, and knew that the boy would eventually find his way out of prison. Especially when Jane was done with the vile bastard.

"Captain." He heard Lisbon address the man in charge.

The so-called captain, no doubt rather sexist, Jane deduced, straightened up and glanced at Lisbon. "Agent Lisbon." Well, at least he acknowledged her by her proper title. "Don't think we'll be needing you guys. We like the neighbour kid who found the body."

Lisbon turned to look at the boy looking out the window from the squad car. Her face remained passive as she turned back to look at the captain. "Did he confess?" she asked.

Turning his attention away from the two law enforcement officials, Jane began to wander towards the large Tudor-style home, known as the Tolliver residence. He tried his best to ignore the press rudely accosting the McClusky.

"_Mercy's father would like to give a brief statement…."_

Of course he would, Jane thought.

Jane turned around and looked up on the stage, were Mercy's parents stood. Morgan was standing tall, his mouth pressed almost to the mic as he clutched his wife, Juniper, close to him. He was trying, and failing, to keep his wife's hand within his. Jane wasn't really listening to the conversation; he found it unnecessary and a waste of time. Tolliver was giving the press something they would expect of a rich and grieving father and his wife obviously didn't believe him about something. Jane's, correct, if he may add, guess would be that Juniper Tolliver knew what her husband was capable of.

When he felt his stomach rumble, Jane turned away from the family and headed towards the house. It was quite nice, given that it was a mansion. But he was mostly interested in finding the kitchen to alleviate some of the hunger pains. And wait for Juniper Tolliver. He wanted to talk to her in an environment where she felt comfortable. Her kitchen, he deduced, would be where she'd feel more comfortable. Away from prying eyes and searching cameras.

Finding the kitchen, Jane set forward to the task of placing a handsome teakettle on the range and searching for the makings of a good sandwich. He found some bread, turkey, and cheese, all within the expiration date, and put it all together. Once done, he scooped up his plate and took a bite from the sandwich, and began to look around the kitchen. There was a wall filled with photos of the Tolliver family. The matriarch must have put them up, seeing as it was doubtful that the sick bastard obviously didn't do such.

He took another bite as the kettle began to whistle.

* * *

><p>Pocketing her pad and pen, Lisbon excused herself from the captain. As far as she was concerned, the CBI was done here. The killer, the McClusky boy, was caught and all that was needed to be done was to get a confession out of him. Which did not make it imperative for her (and Jane) to be there.<p>

Jane…was missing. That was never good, as that's how paperwork was always thrust upon her at the most inconvenient times.

With a sigh, Lisbon started to roam the neighbourhood for any sign of the bane of her existence, hoping that he would turn up making flower crowns or sniffing a rock. Despite finding him doing such things irritating, Lisbon was always secretly pleased that he wasn't causing trouble. Though, there was a slight niggling thought that Jane was to cause havoc today. She didn't know why she thought this, but usually when things were to be calm…it turned out to be the exact opposite with Patrick Jane.

Just as she was about to take a deep breath and declare that this would be a chaos-free day, Lisbon heard a series of gunshots coming from the inside of the Tolliver residence. Stiffening and reaching for her firearm, Lisbon started for the nearest door, police officers hot on her heels.

She entered a brightly lit kitchen with a man dead on the floor and another holding his arms up in the air. A woman, Juniper Tolliver, stood in shock at what she had just done when the gun fell from her fingers and clattered to the floor. Still in shock, she left the room and went outside to the gardens.

Jane turned around and shook his head. "Honestly, it's not as bad as it looks."

Lowering and holstering her weapon, Lisbon started after the Tolliver woman. She was aware of Jane's eyes following her, but she refused to even look at him at the moment. Honestly, she just wanted one day where the man didn't cause a load of paperwork to be dropped upon her.

"Missus Tolliver." The woman didn't answer her back. "Missus Tolliver!"

* * *

><p>Honestly, he had not meant for the woman to kill her husband. It was just unfortunate that there was no one around to have stopped the killing…though, he had to admit, he did not feel any sense of remorse for the man. He did, after all, have sex and kill his daughter. Actually, justice had been served in its best possible way. He just did not see why he had to be suspended for it.<p>

Minelli, much like Lisbon, was upset to hear about what had transpired at the Tolliver residence. Lisbon was reprimanded for not keeping a closer eye on him, which he felt sort of bad about, and he was asked to not come back into the CBI for three weeks. Also known as, he was suspended. His third, actually.

And he hated being suspended. It was extremely tedious to not have anything to do. Though, he did enjoy going over to Lisbon's apartment to spend some time with his daughter (and Missus Norris). Lisbon was always perturbed when he did this. Well, sometimes she was grateful if he had brought something over for her to eat. But that lasted for about five minutes at the most.

"Mister Jane!"

Smiling, Jane turned his attention back to the little girl seated on the couch dressed in fairy tale clothing. They were watching some animated film on the television, and he had quite obviously strayed his attentions.

"I like this one!" she exclaimed as she pointed to the television, where the prince and princess kissed at the end of their wedding. "They love each other, that's why they're get-ing married."

"Oh?" he mocked his lack of knowledge on animated fairy tales. They all, for the most part, ended up the same. The two main characters got married and lived happily ever after.

Rosie nodded. "Yeah, and then they have one hundred babies!"

Turning his head away from Rosie, Jane chuckled quietly. Rosie was obsessed with the number 'one hundred', apparently. It was usually her number for everything. ("I can eat one hundred cookies," "I can do one hundred jumps," "There are one hundred birds up there!")

Ah, Lisbon was going to be angry with him. He had dismissed Missus Norris upon his arrival, seeing that she had a slight allergy problem. Summer was drawing to a close and autumn was coming, meaning that allergies were striking at random. And Lisbon…didn't really like him being with Rosie unsupervised. She most likely assumed that he'd tell Rosie of who he was to her, relation wise.

The credits began to roll across the screen and Jane stood to get started on dinner. He was thinking spaghetti and meatballs, seeing as Lisbon really needed to go to the supermarket. And he decided upon entering the apartment that he'd do it himself tomorrow. After all, he was on suspension and had nothing else better to do with his time.

* * *

><p>It had been a long, long day and all Lisbon wanted to do was eat whatever dinner Missus Norris prepared (Lisbon would tell her she didn't have to cook, but she always did anyway). She was tired and had the headache to prove it. Well, Jane being his typical pain in the ass was also cause of the headache.<p>

Fiddling with her keys, Lisbon stuck them in the door and turned left. Taking a deep breath, she was about to open the door when she head…giggling? Well, sometimes she'd come home to Rosie giggling at something on the television, but this one sounded closer to the door. Furrowing her brow, she pulled the door open and took a step inside, seeing her daughter with the devil at her kitchen table.

"Mommy!" Rosie's eyes lit up at the sight of her mother, amid the pasta sauce covering her face.

Lisbon looked around, forcing a smile to appear on her face. "What is this?"

Jane smiled. Damn him.

"I made dinner."

That he did. Spaghetti and meatballs, to be exact. Her stomach growled.

"Yeah, I can see that," she said.

Taking a deep breath, to calm the nerves that started to niggle their way into her being, she looked at her daughter again. "Jane, can I talk to you alone for a second?"

The smile on Jane's face didn't falter, but he nodded and placed his napkin on the table as he stood. "Lead the way." He made a gesture and Lisbon started to walk farther away from the table. He followed her.

She stopped when they were on the other side of the room, just out of earshot from the table. Taking another deep breath, Lisbon turned to look at him. "What are you doing here?"

Jane shrugged. "I wanted to see Rosie. And your neighbour could use a break on occasion."

"Did you think to ask me first?" She crossed her arms over her chest.

"I have to ask to spend time with my child?"

She rolled her eyes. "Legally –."

He cut her off. "Don't give me that, Teresa." Her eyes bared into his at the mention of her given name. They had a no first name policy, it seemed. "She's my daughter and I should have the right to see her whenever I like."

Opening her mouth to speak again, Lisbon immediately closed it. What she was going to say would no doubt hurt him, but she caught herself beforehand. Sure, she and Jane weren't exactly on the best of terms but she would never try to hurt him intentionally.

Jane leaned in closer. "Just because I wasn't there for the first four years does not mean that I cannot be in her life now, Teresa."

Pulling away, Jane gave Lisbon a small smile before he brushed past her towards the kitchen table. Rosie was trying to twirl a large piece of pasta with her fork, but was having trouble. Lisbon watched as Jane reach for her fork and assist her, and that is what made her realise that Jane had missed out on so much. Looking away, to regain some composure, Lisbon took another deep breath before she headed to the table. Smiling at Rosie and ignoring Jane, she sat down and started to serve herself.

She did not glance at him once during the dinner, but she felt his eyes on her constantly.

**We're actually getting to season one, guys. **


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Hello, everyone! I beg for your forgiveness! University has been crazy and here I am staying up to 2am to finish writing this chapter. Mostly because if I don't do it now, it won't be up until most likely November. But here it is! **

**Thank you to those who read, reviewed, subscribed, and favourited the last chapter!**

**Cat1030 - Thank you! Yes, you'll notice there will be more familiar bits this chapter. I think Red John-orientated chapters will have a lot of dialogue from the actual show. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist. And as you can see, there are quotes from 1x01 Pilot. I don't own those quotes, either. **

Chapter Twenty-Two

**September 18-19, 2008**

Moving the teabag up and down, Jane listened to the news being broadcast on the television. It was the usual weather forecast, interesting story, and strange new food invention. Well, it was the usual until the mention of a serial murder.

Jane's eyes snapped up from his teacup and locked onto the television. _"A murder of a man and woman occurred last night in Palm Springs. Authorities speculate that notorious serial killer, Red John –."_

He set the teacup back on the table and fumbled with his pocket to pull out his cell phone. Flipping the top open, he shakily searched for Lisbon's name before pressing the green button. Taking a deep breath, he held it to his ear until he heard the phone make the call.

And, of course, his call was diverted to voicemail. She was probably boarding her plane or knew that he would be calling her one way or another.

Rolling his eyes and snapping his phone shut, Jane sat down on the moth-eaten motel duvet. He needed to get to Palm Springs.

He was about to try and re-dial Lisbon's number again, hoping that she was merely on the phone with someone else, when his cell sprung to life. The name "**KIMBALL CHO**" was written across the little screen and Jane smiled.

Flipping the phone back and pressing it against his ear, he greeted his, at this moment, favourite CBI Agent. "Cho-o, what can I do for you?"

There was a pause on the other end, almost as if Cho was not supposed to be on the phone. Well, he most likely was not supposed to be, especially if Lisbon were close by. "_We've got a case, and it looks like Red John."_

"Palm Springs." He did not even need to ask.

"_We're all boarding a plane in a couple of minutes."_

Jane smiled into the phone. "Thank you, Cho."

Cho was silent on the other end before he muttered a quick farewell. Jane, still smiling, hit the red button and flipped his phone shut.

Lying back against the bed, Jane closed his eyes and searched his memory palace for an acquaintance that could either get him on a plane within the hour or had their own plane. His mind, then, came to rest Marcus Billingsley. He had met the man when he had been living in Las Vegas about ten years ago. He was, to say the least, a professional gambler who owed him a favour. With a smile, Jane flipped his phone open once more and dialled another number.

"Marcus! This is Patrick Jane. I am in need of a favour."

* * *

><p>Lisbon hated leaving Rosie home while she had to leave for a case. It tended to happen more than she would like to admit, but she was always thankful for Missus Norris's ever-faithful dedication to watching her daughter while she was away. The thought of her daughter in capable hands put Lisbon at ease.<p>

With a sigh, Lisbon heaved her suitcase up into an overhead compartment. Rigsby stood up from his seat, almost in an offer to help her, but backed down when he saw that she had gotten it up there. Tipping her head to the side, Lisbon regarded Rigsby's intentions and moved to sit down in her aisle seat.

Adjusting her position in her seat, Lisbon buckled up her safety belt and reached for a magazine. Out of the corner of her eye as she read the table of contents, she saw Grace Van Pelt, her new rookie, move to sit down next to Rigsby. The man seemed flustered immediately, shifting in his seat almost excitedly. She was attractive, that Grace Van Pelt. Lisbon just hoped Van Pelt was smart enough to stay away from him.

"_So…how's your first day going so far?"_ Rigsby asked.

Lisbon heard the rustle of periodicals. _"It's been going great, thanks!" _

Rolling her eyes, Lisbon flipped a page in her magazine as the pilot began to make his initial announcements. It was the usual mentions of the weather and estimated time of arrival; she had flown enough to expect it all.

Soon enough, the plane took off from the runway and they were up in the air towards Palm Springs International Airport. After the take-off, Lisbon stowed away her magazine and pressed the tiny little button that made her seat go back. Shutting her eyes, Lisbon allowed herself to fall into a slumber that made up for the little sleep she had last night.

She had gotten the call late last night that a murder occurred in Palm Springs and that it appeared to be Red John's doing. Lisbon had groaned once the words "Red John" left Minelli's lips, because she knew that Jane would try his hardest to wheedle his way into working the case. After she hung up the phone with Minelli, Lisbon spent the next few hours packing her necessities in a small rolling suitcase before making arrangements with sleepy old Missus Norris.

Jolting awake at the sensation of turbulence, Lisbon sat up straight in her seat. Inhaling deeply, she brought her seat back into the upright position just as a flight attendant began to walk by.

"Excuse me, ma'am," she began, "but can you tell me when we are expected to land?"

The flight attendant, tall and blonde, spun around on her heel and looked down at the seated agent. "We're expected to land in about fifteen minutes or so," she said.

Nodding, Lisbon mumbled a brief "thank you" before she reached for a newspaper that she had yet to skim through. And without a doubt, the new Red John case was plastered on the front page. No doubt Jane knew by now that Red John had, yet again, killed.

* * *

><p>When Jane walked down the steps of Marcus's private jet, he turned around and waved with a bright smile. Marcus, however, stood at the top of the stairs with his arms crossed sternly over his chest.<p>

Turning back around, noting that he was not quite welcome, Jane tossed his jacket over his shoulder and started for the red and yellow cab that was at the other end of the tarmac. His smile brightened at the sight of the cab driver, and he was instantly glad that he had called for his service thirty minutes ago.

"You Mister Jane?" the driver asked.

Jane nodded. "Yeah, that would be me. You my driver?"

The cab driver grunted and opened the door up for him. "No suitcase?"

Shaking his head and climbing into the back of the car, Jane held his hands up to show that he was, essentially, empty-handed. "No suitcase," he confirmed.

Grunting again, the driver looped around and got in his side of the car. Starting up the engine, he pulled away from the tarmac and started for the main road that would no doubt lead to a highway.

In the backseat, Jane rolled his shoulders backwards to get all the kinks out of them as he yawned. He did not really like flying these days, but he knew it was needed sometimes. Especially when he had to get somewhere fast. And, given that he was on suspension, Lisbon refused to tell him anything. So he had to beat her to the coroner's office if he wanted to get any details.

_Unless I can convince her otherwise_, he mused.

Shifting in his seat, Jane looked out the window and watched as the desert-like scenery passed by as the car sped onto the highway. They'd reach Palm Springs in no time, he decided. He did not really like Palm Springs very much. He really did not know why, it just irked him. Maybe it was slightly too close to Los Angeles, regardless of being over one hundred miles away. There was a reason why he preferred Sacramento these days, and it wasn't just the CBI being located there.

Closing his eyes, Jane could still remember the studio lights hitting his face as he gave a farce psychic reading concerning a woman and her relationship with her father. Then he remembered siting sitting opposite those who interviewed him, those who brought up Red John. He was so stupid and reckless back then.

But his mind then drifted to something else entirely. Nothing horrible, he knew. It was his last night with one Teresa Lisbon in her hotel room. He felt guilty for being with her rather than with his family. Maybe if he had been home with them, they would still be alive and well. Charlotte would be so grown up now…. His mind then shifted to Rosie. Oh, his darling Rosie. Ever since he found out about her existence, all he wanted to do was be around her, much to Lisbon's apprehension. If he had not been with Lisbon that night, then Rosie would not exist.

Sometimes he felt like he was in a rock and a hard place. He knew that that night he had lost his wife and child, but gained another daughter. And now that he had had a taste of his child with Lisbon, Jane could never wish that she never existed.

Sometimes he did not know what to make of his situation.

Opening his eyes, Jane was mildly surprised to see that they were already driving through downtown Palm Springs, even though it was at a slow speed. Meh, cab drivers. Always wanting to get the most money that they can swindle out of their customers. It was almost an ironic situation.

The driver pulled up to the Riverside County Morgue, parked the car at the curb, and grunted a price. It was hefty, but Jane did not complain when he pulled out his wallet and paid the driver close to one hundred dollars in cash.

As he was putting his wallet back into his pocket, he looked out the window to see Lisbon, Cho, and Rigsby walk down the sidewalk towards the morgue. Well, there went his plan for arriving before them.

Inwardly groaning, Jane pushed open the door and started to step out of the red and yellow vehicle. It felt good to stand.

"Morning, everybody!"

The trio of agents immediately stopped walking and turned to him. Lisbon's eyes met his sharply as they narrowed. He knew she would be pissed, but she just looked dangerous. And he could feel the tension radiating off of her and to him like no other.

"How was your flight?" He tried to smooth things over, knowing that the rest of the day would not be simple.

"Go away, you're on suspension."

Lisbon turned away from him and started walking down the sidewalk again, her agents following behind her. Jane thanked the cab driver again, getting another grunted reply, and started jogging after the trio. His heart started to beat rapidly and he inwardly cursed at his lack of motivation to exercise more than he did. Which was rather rare.

Catching up with Lisbon, Jane falls in step with her. It was difficult for him to keep up with her pace. "Mandated leave, ends next week."

"So come back next week."

Jane looked over his shoulder at Cho, his breath coming out in pants. "Hot enough for you?"

Again, he was trying to smooth things over with Lisbon.

"Which one of you jackasses told him?"

Jane cringed.

"It was you, wasn't it Cho?"

Bingo.

"Yes, it was."

Oh, Jane did not envy Cho. Now the both of them were on Teresa Lisbon's "bad" list for the duration of the case. He was quite certain that Rigsby did not envy either of them.

"Of course he called me. It's Red John, you can't keep me out of this." He turned his head toward her. "Why would you want to?"

She looked at him briefly. "You got a man killed, there's consequences."

Jane mentally rolled his eyes. Sometimes he just wanted to grab Lisbon by the upper arms and give her a firm shake. That evil bastard, Morgan Tolliver, got what was coming to him. If he hadn't died by the hand of his wife, Juniper, then he most likely would have been given a slow and much more painful way to go in prison. Though, he would have liked for the man to have a slow and painful death.

"Oh, a man that murdered his daughter because she wouldn't have sex with him anymore," he said blankly.

As they started to ascend the stairs outside the morgue, Lisbon slowed down her pace. He turned to her and glanced at her annoyed and slightly angry face. "You didn't know that." Jane stopped at the top of the stairs and she continued up.

"You did not know that," she continued, "if she hadn't left a diary—."

"But she did, though," he interrupted. "Be reasonable. This is my case."

At the mention of his case, Lisbon moved back just a little. "Your case?"

Behind her, Cho and Rigsby exchanged glances. The duo knew that there was going to be some sort of argument about to start, so they moved into the building.

_Smart men,_ Jane thought.

Jane stepped closer to Lisbon. "Red John's mine, Teresa."

Shrugging her shoulders and stiffening at the use of her given name, Lisbon moved back a step. "Red John doesn't belong to anyone."

He moved closer once more, knowing that Lisbon would not dare take a step back or risk falling down the stairs. His eyes locked onto hers, pleading with her to let him stay. "He belongs to me," he said.

"It's not my call," Lisbon started, her voice almost hesitant. He had her, he knew, but she was trying to follow protocol. _Meh, always with the protocol_. "Rules are rules, come back next week."

Jane stepped aside, knowing that he had done what he could to convince Lisbon into allowing him to work on the case. She brushed past him and into the morgue, her head tossing to the side to tell the security guard not to let him in.

Smiling, Jane pulled out his cell phone and dialled a familiar number. No doubt he could persuade Minelli into letting him work the case.

* * *

><p>Honestly, she should have expected Jane to go over her head (yet again) and call Minelli. As usual, he was able to persuade her boss into letting him work on the case again. This happened last time, but most likely because she was certain that Jane was tired of being Rosie's styling model and he had the means of manipulating people into doing what he wished.<p>

And the fact that he went over her head only made her anger at him grow, despite the fact that he apologised.

Trying to keep her anger in check the best she can, she continued down the hallway towards where she knew Doctor Linus Wagner sat and waited for them. The man was seated solemnly on a bench, his eyes downcast until he heard them coming.

"Doctor Wagner, hi." She reached out to shake his hand in hers. "I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon, California Bureau of Investigation. What's your connection to the victims?"

Doctor Wagner took in all of the agents around him. "Well, I work with Gregory, Doctor Tannen, and the Randolph family are long-time clients of our practise."

"Are house calls the norm at your practise?"

She wondered why Gregory Tannen was even with Alison Randolph. Especially late at night alone, seeing that the most likely cause was due to an affair.

"No, Gregory and Alison were close friends," Wagner said, looking forlorn once more.

Rigsby piped up. "Lovers?"

Wagner shook his head. "No, he was gay." Lisbon shifted her eyes irritably at Jane. _Damn him!_ "They were just friends. What in God's name happened to them?"

"Looks like Red John," Rigsby stated.

Lisbon caught herself before she rolled her eyes at Rigsby.

Wagner looked up; his eyes alight with much interest. "Who's Red John?"

"We don't know who did this," she started. "We'll be in touch, probably. Thank you for your time."

Shaking Doctor Wagner's hand, Lisbon turned to leave. Her team, plus Jane, followed her towards the rental van parked at the curb down the street. When Rigsby unlocked the van, Lisbon shot a glare over her shoulder at Jane. Pretending not to notice, Jane looked the other direction.

His very presence set her teeth on edge. She made it very clear that he ought not to stay, and yet he went over her head and called Minelli. Now here he was, climbing into the vehicle and driving with her to the crime scene to meet with the tech.

Brett Partridge, their crime scene investigator of the week, would join them and the Randolph house. And Lisbon just hoped that Jane wouldn't screw this one up too. Two techs ago, Jane had insulted the CSI and before she knew it, a complaint had been placed on her desk. Jane had merely shrugged and "meh-ed" his view on the entire situation.

On the way to the Randolph house, Lisbon pulled out the file the coroner had given her and began to recap how Alison died. In the backseat, Jane looked out the window and Cho nodded his head. Eyes flashing up to the rear-view mirror, Lisbon glared at Jane. Slowly, he turned to face her and smiled softly. Narrowing her eyes, Lisbon looked away.

They pulled up to the victim's residence in what Lisbon would call record timing. She was grateful to unbuckle her safety belt and leave the vehicle. Outside of the house was Brett Partridge, a young and slightly geeky-looking man.

"I'm Agent Lisbon with the CBI, and these are Agents Cho and Rigsby."

Partridge waved hesitantly at the two men behind her, but raised a questioning eyebrow at Jane. Lisbon looked over her shoulder, noted that Jane was trying to take in the house, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"And this is Patrick Jane, our consultant."

Nodding, Partridge led them into the Randolph house and began to act out the scene that he assumed that the infamous serial killer would have created. "Red John enters here," he started.

Rigsby took a few steps forward, getting in the man's way. "Excuse me," Partridge said, "He comes around here. He waits for her, expecting her to come in alone."

Lisbon watched as the man moved around the room, slightly disturbed by the man's…interest in recreating a crime scene.

The man suddenly stopped, smiling as he played with his red tie. "Only thing, her friend Tannen chose the wrong night to come over for a Richard Gere and ice cream orgy."

Narrowing her eyes at the tech, Lisbon watched as the man continued on after realising that he had said something inappropriate. "So, Red John zaps them both with his trusty stun gun and excuse me." Partridge moves around Cho, who stood near a bag of golf clubs that the CSI was reaching for. "Grabs a five iron from the bag here."

She watched as Partridge gripped the five iron tightly in his hands and swung down, bringing the club several centimetres away from the bloodstained carpet. "BAM, crushes Tannen's skull. Then takes his sweet time dealing with Alison how he likes," Partridge said as he turned toward the bedroom where Red John's main victim was killed. "She's a nice big girl…."

Movement in her peripherals caught Lisbon's attention. Turning her attention away from the…nutty tech, Lisbon's eyes followed the form of Patrick Jane entering Alison Randolph's bedroom. She debated calling after him, informing him that he ought to stay around her, but she decided not to. Jane did his best work when snooping around a victim's (or suspect's) home.

Also, this was a Red John case. Therefore, even if she wanted to, Lisbon knew that she couldn't sway Jane from it. Even though she desperately wanted him to go back to Sacramento. Red John cases did him no good, she knew.

Blinking, Lisbon followed Cho, Rigsby, and Partridge into the bedroom. She braced herself for the sight of the blood and evidence that Red John had, in fact, killed another woman in her own home.

Even after all of these years working the Red John case, Lisbon still didn't like to see his signature. She couldn't help it, but she would always connect the sight to when came to the Jane residence in Malibu. Lisbon could still feel her stomach churning at the sight.

Jane was still in the bedroom and started making his way towards them once he realised they had entered. He took his position beside her and watched as Partridge began to examine the evidence.

"There she blows," Partridge began, excited at the sight of a Red John smiley, "classic Red John smiley face."

She watched as the tech came closer to the wall and brought his hand up to the drawing to trace it, a couple of centimetres away, of course. "Drawn in the victim's blood clockwise with three fingers of his right hand wearing a rubber kitchen glove," he said with evident glee as he turned around. "I'm stoked to finally see one in the flesh!"

Lisbon had to admit, the look present in the CSI's eyes was…not normal.

"This isn't Red John," Jane stated blankly.

Partridge shifted his stance, not liking what Jane had to say. "Ri-i-ight."

"Red John thinks of himself as a showman, an artist. He has a strong sense of theatre." Jane took a few steps until he stood in the middle of the room. "In all of the previous killings, he made sure that the first thing anyone sees is the face on the wall. You see the face first and you know."

Lisbon blinked and looked down at her shoes.

"You know what's happened and you feel dread. Then, and then only, do you see the body of the victim. Always in that order. Here it's the opposite."

Jane took another step pointed at the bloody smiley face, and turned around. "The first thing you see is the body and you have to look around to see the face on the wall. It doesn't play nearly as well, does it?"

Lisbon looked up and was about to speak when Jane held up a hand to silence her. "No. The killer did not paint on the right wall because he's not Red John."

Stopping, Lisbon locked eyes with Jane. Anger bubbled up inside of her at the thought that Jane had interrupted her. She set her jaw straight and shifted her footing.

"Wow, interesting," Partridge said dryly.

"And you know what your problem is, my friend?" Lisbon watched Jane whirl around at the CSI tech, and groaned inwardly. Not only was she pissed off now because Jane silenced her before she even opened her mouth, but no doubt was he about to generate another complaint that she would have to work on once they all returned to Sacramento.

Oh, God.

"You enjoy your work a little too much. You're a ghoul. If you don't get horny reading Fangoria, I'm Britney Spears."

And there it was.

Partridge, flabbergasted, tightened his grip on the five iron. "I-I resent that!"

Lisbon, rolling her eyes, took a step forward and kept her anger in check. "This is you trying to redeem yourself, is it?"

He _did_ say that he would make it up to her in the coroner's office. And, apparently, that translated to more paperwork for her.

Jane looked down at the carpet. "I'm sorry. He irks me. He's irksome and you don't need me here."

Without commenting further, Jane brushed past all the inhabitants of the room. Lisbon sighed, apologised for Jane's behaviour and tried to, and failed, to dissuade Partridge from submitting any formal complaints against Jane. As she, Cho, and Rigsby walked out of the Randolph house, Lisbon cursed under her breath and felt the sudden urge to throw Patrick Jane up against the rental van by the lapels of his coat and shake some sense into him.

Or just punch him in the nose. Whichever worked better.

"We need to go back to the sheriff's office," she said.

The two men nodded and Rigsby walked faster towards the car. Cho stayed behind her, not really wanting to become her latest victim of rage again. He knew, most likely, that it was all centered on Jane at the moment.

They clambered into the car, Lisbon in the front passenger seat, and pulled away from the Randolph residence. Once, Lisbon glanced into the rear view mirror to look at Jane, but glanced away before she could see him look back.

"Could you drop me off at the airport, please?" They were not far from the Randolph's home when Lisbon heard Jane ask the question.

At the sound of his voice, Lisbon immediately stiffened in her seat and turned to look at him. "You're leaving," she state flatly.

Jane glanced down and back up. "Well, I have to get my shoes x-rayed anyway. So, I figured I'd get on a plane."

He looked away, most likely knowing that she'd be angry with him. Well, he was correct to assume so, as she had every right to be angry with him at this point. She was even more so than before due to his complete disregard to help catch the killer of Alison Randolph and Gregory Tannen.

"And off you go on your merry way." He turned back to look at her slowly, sensing the tension rise in the rental van. "These lives lost here mean nothing to you."

Jane looked up. "Not nothing." She continued to stare at him. "I'm confused. You don't want me here and it's not Red John. So, I'm going. What's your problem?"

She blinked. "We don't know that it's not Red John and what I want is not the point."

He continued, Cho included now, to stare at her. At this point she realised that she had taken him off guard. It felt good.

"Oh, wait a minute. I get it. You're just trying to get me to ask you to stay." She turned around in her seat to look through the front of the windscreen, not really paying attention to anything and continued her attempt to keep him off guard.

"Why would you think that?" she heard him ask. "Why would she think that?" he asked, quieter.

Rolling her eyes, Lisbon turned around once more in her seat. "Because A, you've got nowhere to go, and B, you're an egomaniac."

She knew that she had him at this point. He was no longer caught off guard because she was telling him exactly what she thought, and what he knew she thought, of him. This was confirmed when he tossed his head back slightly and smiled.

"You think it's impossible that I really and truly do not want to work with you. You think that deep down inside I've got a grudging respect for your genius," she paused, "the truth is, deep down, I'm scared of you. You've got no boundaries, no common sense. You're filled with all this…this shit you refuse to acknowledge." He was still smiling.

"One day you're going to create one mother of a tragedy for yourself and everybody around you. I don't want to be there when it happens." At this, he looked down at his lap. She wanted him to think not only about himself, as he had been all day, and think about someone else. Someone small and more vulnerable. She wanted him to think about Rosie, and she knew that she had gotten what she wanted.

"So, we'll drive you to the airport – it's fine."

Finishing her sentence, Lisbon turned around and sat forward in her seat once more. "Take a left on Bob Hope," she said to Rigsby.

"Uh, that's okay. Just let me off right here," Jane said from behind.

Rigsby looked over his shoulder. "We'll drive you, it's no problem."

"Stop the car."

Lisbon looked at Rigsby one more time before back through the windscreen. She knew she hit her target and decided that it was now time to back off and let him do as he wished. Though, she was a little surprised that Jane decided that he wanted to get out of the car here…right in front of a gas station.

* * *

><p>As soon as the CBI rental van drove away, Jane realised that Lisbon had baited him. Well, not necessarily to get out of the car in front of a gas station, but to make him mull things over for a bit. She would be calling him in a matter of minutes to either check up on him or ask him to come back. Or maybe a mixture of both.<p>

When he returned to Sacramento, not only in hopes of getting a hold of the Red John case files, Jane knew that she wouldn't be the same Teresa Lisbon that he fell in love with five years ago. Though, he did not expect for things to quite turn out how they have been lately. For example, Jane did not expect Rosie to exist. Nevertheless, whenever he thought of his little girl, he felt his heart swell.

Now he stood before the sheriff's office as he debated whether or not to enter the building. As it was rather warm outside, he decided that he was going to enter in about ten seconds.

Taking a deep breath, Jane pulled out his cell phone when he feels it vibrate inside his breast pocket. Glancing at the caller I.D., Jane smiled and flipped open the phone.

"Hey Lisbon."

"_Hey,"_ she started blandly, _"So, you might be right about the case. _Might _be. Thanks for the insight."_

He smiled into the phone. "Are you asking me to come back, Teresa?" he asked, as he entered the building and momentarily revelled in the sensation of air conditioning hitting his heated body.

She was silent for some time. _"No, did I say that? I'm acknowledging the fact that you might be right, that's all. I mean, if you wanted to come back, I couldn't stop you."_

"You really are asking me to come back, aren't you?" he said in a teasing tone.

Lisbon sighed. _"Yeah, fine, I'm asking you to come back."_

Taking a couple of steps forward, Jane's smile grew a bit larger. "Why?"

"_Because…because you are useful to the team."_

Jane had to swallow down a chuckle as he neared the team's working area. It wouldn't due for her to know just yet where he was. "Say please, Teresa."

"_No!"_

He could hear her clearly from where she was behind the makeshift shelves. It was quite amusing to him.

"_No, I won't say _please_, go screw yourself!" _

Watching as she hung up forcefully on him and slammed the phone on the table, he heard her mutter "jackass," as she continued to work on her paperwork. Taking a moment to compose himself, Jane stowed away his cell phone back into his breast pocket and slowly entered the temporary office space they occupied for the duration of their time in Palm Springs.

There was a young redheaded woman currently going through files on the opposite side of the room. Setting the files down, the woman walked past him and took a small momentary glance at him.

"Good morning," he told her.

She paused and turned to look at him, her hazel eyes wide with confusion. Ah, the rookie. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Smiling, Jane held out his hand to her. "You must be Van Pelt. A pleasure." He took her hand in his and shook it. "Patrick Jane."

Recognition flashed before her features and she smiled a bright, beautiful smile. "Oh, hi! Glad to finally meet you! Agent Cho said you'd left town!"

Jane pulled his hand back and looked around the room, a smile still on his face. "No. Nowhere to go."

"Okay," she said as she looked around. "Uh, do you want that desk over there or this one?" she asked, pointing to the different desks. "I mean, that one gets more light."

Smiling again at the cheeriness of the rookie, Jane turned to look at her. "That one. More light, by all means."

Van Pelt's smile only grew as she walked away. Jane, with a small grin still evident on his features, brushed past Lisbon's temporary desk. "A very pleasant addition to the Serious Crimes family," he told her.

Lisbon looked up. "Oh, hi. When did you get here?"

* * *

><p>Placing the toothbrush the hotel gave her down on the counter, Lisbon spat out the toothpaste from her mouth. With a sigh, she reached down and drank down the lukewarm water and proceeded to do the same as she did with the paste.<p>

It was finally time for her, and the team, to wind down after a long day. She hoped that they could all be on their way tomorrow and that she'd be able to tuck her daughter into bed.

Making her way back into the main portion of her room, Lisbon pulled out her Cub's tee shirt and laid it down on the bed. She reached down to grasp at the hem of her blouse when she heard footsteps echo through the hall, followed by a door slamming, and more footsteps. Frantic footsteps, if she wanted to be more precise.

Furrowing her brow, Lisbon pushed the hem back down and grasped the handle to peek out into the hallway. Her heart quickened at the sight of Jane going around a corner and she instantly walked back into her room to grab her sidearm from its position beside her sleeping shirt.

Lisbon took off after Jane, running as fast as she could in hopes he didn't do anything stupid. She carefully ran down the stairs, skipping the last two once she got down towards the bottom. Bursting through the double doors that led outside, she stopped.

He was standing in the parking lot, his shirt undone and his waistcoat askew as his eyes chased around for a phantom of some sort. Lisbon let her sidearm rest against her thigh as she slowly made her way up to the wild-looking man.

"Jane," she started as she came up to stand beside him.

When he didn't answer her, Lisbon lifted her hand and placed it on his bicep. Instantly, he flinched backwards and gazed at her.

"I lost him," he said.

She looked over his shoulder, curious as to what he was saying. "Lost who?"

"We, we need to get back to my room."

_What?_

Looking at him strangely, she watched as Jane's eyes continued to search around the parking lot and not realising what his statement insinuated. "He left a note and we need to look at it," he said.

Having a better understanding, Lisbon put her hand on his upper arm once more. He didn't flinch this time and he let her tug him towards the hotel once more. Though, the entire time as he panted beside her, his eyes danced around in the darkness.

The people at the front desk didn't take too kindly to her walking around the lobby with a firearm. Especially because she looked like she was dragging Jane hostage-style.

When she dropped him off in his room, she left temporarily to call the rest of the team. Within the next five minutes, Cho, Van Pelt, and Rigsby entered Jane's room, clad in their sleepwear. They all gathered around the note and Van Pelt was the one who reached down to read it.

"_Greetings old friend, it's been a while. I hope you are keeping well. I am thriving and happy. I have twelve wives now and will soon be courting number thirteen. Why can't you catch me? You must feel so powerless and stupid and sad. Oh well. All the best, Red John."_

Cho crossed his strong arms over his chest. "That sounds like the real deal."

"Sounds like Red John, but it's not." Jane got up from his bed. "Red John wouldn't risk capture just to taunt me."

Rigsby looked around the room, confused. "So, the real killer is trying to throw us off track?"

Looking around the room, Lisbon took a step forward closer to her team. "Cho, find out where Price Randolph was half an hour ago. Rigsby, I want you to check the hotel security cameras." She looked over at Van Pelt and gestured at the note. "Get those over to forensics."

Nodding, her team abruptly left the room, leaving her alone with Jane. She watched as the man settled back down on his bed, eyes drifting off into space. Concern for the man bubbled up in the pit of her stomach.

Taking a step closer, Lisbon took a good glance at him. "You okay?" she asked.

He nodded. "Absolutely."

_Liar_, she thought.

"Get some sleep," she told him before she started to leave.

"Uh, Teresa?"

Lisbon paused, her hand was hovering over the doorknob at the sound of his voice. She chewed on her bottom lip, but refused to turn around and look at him. "Yeah, Jane?"

"I'm sorry," he told her.

* * *

><p>Hugs made a person feel good, unless they were claustrophobic. Humans liked physical contact, humans are physical beings, and therefore humans liked physical contact. Jane liked hugs for their closeness to the rest of humanity, but he also found them to be a powerful manipulation and stunning tool. That was exactly why he found it so simple to lift the key of off Doctor Wagner.<p>

Doctor Wagner had not expected him to return into the building, therefore stunning the man and manipulating him to his desires. When he had walked in, Doctor Wagner was tearing apart Gregory Tannen's office in search of a diary that he had planted beforehand. Though, what he did not expect was for Doctor Wagner to be carrying a firearm and pointing it in his general direction.

He just thanked whoever deity was present that moment that he got out of there unscathed.

Lisbon had been furious when she initially found out what stunt he had coerced Rigsby into doing along with him. Then Rigsby, and the rest of the team, had been furious when he had figured out the killer in the very beginning and neglected to share the information with them.

_Do I have to do everything_, he mused.

"Mister Jane?" His attention was turned back to the small child that lay in her bed. "Will you tell me story tonight?"

Smiling, Jane grasped the ends of the duvet and pulled it up tighter to the girl's chin. "No, Rosie, not tonight. Didn't your mother tell you one?" he teased.

Rosie pouted. "But I want _you _to tell me a story!"

Leaning forward, he swept a lock of hair behind her hair and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He took a moment then to inhale the sweet scent of Rosie's shampoo. She smelled of apples.

"Not tonight, sweetheart. But I will tell you this."

Rosie's eyes opened wide, happy to see that the man before her was going to share something with her. He had to brace himself, now. The words he was just about to speak were fresh in his mind, as he knew they always would be. Though, he knew it would be difficult for him to say. "You are safe," he started, his eyes flickering to the dark figure leaning against the wall outside the door.

"You are loved." He felt tears begin to prick up in the corners of his eyes. "And you are wise."

Furrowing her little brows, Rosie thought about what he had just told her. "I am safe, I am loved, and I am wise," she recited back.

Jane nodded, and tried to keep the tears from falling down his cheeks. He knew that he would have to leave Lisbon's apartment quickly. "Yes, very good, Rosie."

She beamed up at him and reached for him. Leaning down once more, he let her press a little kiss on his slightly stubbled cheek before pulling away.

"Good-night, Mister Jane."

Nodding again, Jane whispered a soft goodnight and reached to turn off the light closest to her bed. He then got up and left the room, taking a single momentary glance back at his daughter.

Leaving the room, he slowly pulled the door closed until it was open just a crack. Lisbon was leaning against the door, her arms crossed over her chest as she gazed up at him. She didn't say anything to him, and for that he was thankful. He muttered a quick goodnight to her before he swiftly left her apartment.

It wasn't until he was in the confines of his car until he leaned against the steering wheel and let the tears flow down his cheeks. That night he drove back to Malibu, spending the six hours staring aimlessly before him. He then spent the remainder of the night and morning lying on a twin mattress beneath a fading red smiley face with dried tears on his cheeks.

**Just out of curiosity, what songs come to mind when you think about this fic? I'm genuinely curious about this. : )**


	24. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Can I just fall to my knees and grovel for forgiveness? All I can say is that university and my personal life is kicking me in the butt right now. Ask Holly (Brown_Eyes_Parker) and she'll tell you that I'm scarce on Twitter, even! **

**Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited, and subscribed! Enjoy this new update! **

**JoannaKrik - Hmm, I have not read that one! Or, sadly, any fanfiction for that matter, but I think I will have to before I return to university. Yes, Jane does still love Lisbon, but he knows that he can't just go out and say it to her given their current circumstances. Thank you for reading!**

**BrendaMcLovin - Right now? I'm so sorry, I feel absolutely horrible! (Really, I do.) Thank you for reading! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist or quite a few of the lines written (as quotes) in this chapter. **

Chapter Twenty-Three

**September 26, 2008**

_Bang, bang_, a life was taken.

_Bang_, another body had fallen to the floor in a crumpled heap.

Lisbon closed her eyes and leaned back in her desk chair, she slowly counted to ten backwards. On the twenty-sixth of September, she had killed for the first time. And it hadn't been just one, but two. A husband and wife, who died believing that their twisted viewpoints were a perfectly fine way of living.

She had acted out of instinct, due to the fact that she saw a helpless woman bound before her eyes. Jane was there, too, which was something else that had caused her heart to lurch when she noted that he was alone (pretty much) in a motel room with two killers.

"They are together in their own way, you know," a voice said, jarring her out of her thoughts.

She turned to her doorway, where a figure stood leaning against the frame. Lisbon knew it was Jane, because he was the only one that would brave talking to her after what had happened earlier.

Watching Jane step further into the room, Lisbon turned her eyes away from him. She didn't want him to look into her eyes.

"Thank you for saving me," he told her.

Lisbon nodded numbly and reached for a pen. She wanted to appear as if she was actually doing something at her desk rather than staring off into space, like she was. Jane saw through it, of course, and she prayed that he wouldn't acknowledge it.

From the corner of her eye, Lisbon saw Jane shift around almost uneasily. "You should go home. Back to Rosie."

She looked over at him then, and she saw pain in his eyes. Lisbon didn't know why he was feeling any sort of pain, but she figured it had to do with Rosie. He hadn't been around since he tucked the little girl into bed about a week ago, not that she minded.

Looking away, she fiddled with her pen before setting it aside. Lisbon tried to keep her eyes away from Jane's, for she didn't want him to even see a semblance of vulnerability in her – not that there was any, of course.

"Come to dinner with me, at least."

Her eyes flickered up to him. "No," she said, "I have work to do."

Lisbon knew that his eyes were on her, so she tried to avert his gaze the best way she could. He was studying her, she knew, and it was unnerving her. She was adjusting her position in her seat.

"Come on, surely you could not just this once forget what happened?"

When his words left his mouth, Lisbon stiffened, but refused to look at him. He continued, "five years ago, Teresa."

She stiffened even further and braved a glance up to his impassive face. Frowning at him, she picked up her pencil again and fiddled with it once more.

"I can't, _Jane_."

He recoiled a bit once the words left her mouth, especially with an emphasis on his surname. The one notion that unnerved her just a bit was how he was still looking at her, but with an intensity that would have been sending shivers down her spine if his words hadn't just caused upset within her.

"You left." She set her pencil aside and stood. "You left and led us all to believe that something bad happened to you."

He narrowed his eyes. "Something bad did happen to me."

"Nah, I am not talking about that!" Her voice was raised just a little. "I'm talking about how you just left without saying anything. How you led us to believe that you had died or something along the lines of that," she spat.

"You're talking about you, aren't you?" Jane took a step closer to her until the desk between them only separated them. "You're just angry that I left _you_ after our brief reconciliation."

He moved around the desk, her eyes followed his every step, so that there was nothing physically in between them. Sure, they had had tense moments between the two of them since he was hired with the CBI, but nothing like this. This was truly the first time she ever had wanted to kill him with any object she could get her hands on. Of course the man annoyed her daily, he was the bane of her existence, but that was part of the way he did his job. She'd come to accept that long ago, but now he was bringing forth old wounds that she preferred to stay out of the CBI.

"And that is why you do not like me around Rosie."

That was it.

The anger his initial words had ignited had only grown and she found pulled her arm back before rushing it forward until her closed hand came into contact with his jaw. Jane's head flew back and his hand moved up in a way to assess the damage done to his body. He took a couple of steps back as he evaluated his jaw, his gaze moving back to her.

She was breathing heavily and she tried her best to regulate it. "Go home, Jane," she told him. "You shouldn't be here, either." She was failing quite miserably at breathing regularly.

He had shot her a look of disdain as soon as the word _home_ had left her lips, and for a moment she had felt a semblance of guilt for it. However, that guilt was squelched when she remembered that he was the reason why she wasn't breathing right, why she was pissed off. Patrick Jane was also, in a few ways, a reason why her life had changed so drastically as soon as she had moved to Sacramento.

"Goodnight, Lisbon," he said to her.

And with that, Patrick Jane turned and left her office without another word, and Teresa Lisbon found herself alone.

* * *

><p>Jane thought it was safe to say that his jaw ached like no other. He blamed himself, of course, but he had to go that distance to confirm his suspicion.<p>

From the moment Jane had started working with Lisbon nearly a year ago, she had been trying to keep a large distance between them. Of course, he knew this was greatly influenced by Rosie, but he also knew that there was something much deeper than what he had previously thought. His sudden departure all those years ago had hurt her more than he had thought (and anticipated). He had thought about it from time to time these last several months, but he had previously felt no suggestion that Lisbon was upset due to his time away from Sacramento.

He should had seen it much earlier, and all his previous notions of how she felt toward his disappearance were squelched when he recalled that she never said those three little words during their last passionate encounter, unlike him.

Entering the little kitchenette within the CBI, Jane rooted around the freezer for an ice pack. Successfully, he encountered one that was presumably from Rigsby's lunch. Though, he did not care where it came from as long as it nullified the sharp throbbing of his jaw.

He pressed the pack against his jaw and he leaned against the counter. His teeth clenched and he hissed as the coldness seeped into his flesh and rendered it numb. He welcomed the numbness, as it took away his pain for a few brief moments.

Pulling the ice pack away from his jaw, Jane saw a bit of movement from the corner of his eye. His eyes flickered in the direction and watched as Lisbon, clutching onto her briefcase, made her way toward the elevator. For a brief moment, Jane thought about going after her, but decided against it. She had made it clear as day that she wanted to be alone, and he would grant her that wish at the moment.

Jane watched the elevator doors close in front of her, all the while moving the ice pack back to his sore face. Once again he winced but he had found his eyes being caught by another pair. Lisbon stared back at him, even if it were for a brief moment, as the doors closed fully. She would be all right, he deduced.

**October 13-16, 2008**

Lisbon sat up from her recliner and looked around. It was morning, finally, and she found herself stretching upwards toward the ceiling. Clasping her hands together above her head, Lisbon straightened out her spine and moved to stand.

Upon standing, she stepped on the thermometer and bottle of children's cold medicine. Sighing, she brushed the offending bits on the floor away with her big toe and made her way over to the couch, where her young daughter lay fast asleep.

Rosie grew sick early the day before, prompting Lisbon to take the day off of work to tend to her ill daughter. As soon as the words "I need to take a personal day" left her lips, Jane had immediately started offering to help with her daughter. Of course, as usual, she declined his help and rushed home to dismiss Missus Norris.

Leaning over her child and smoothing back her hair, Lisbon pressed a soft kiss to Rosie's forehead. The little girl winced and sniffled in her sleep, obviously not ready to wake up.

When Lisbon pulled away, she stiffened at the sudden sound of her cell phone chirping to life from the coffee table, and Rosie awakened immediately afterwards. Cursing under her breath, just below Rosie's hearing range, Lisbon reached for her phone and walked toward her kitchen. A quick glance to the caller I.D. was all she needed to know.

"Lisbon," she said into the phone.

"_Lisbon, good morning, how is Rosie today?"_

Minelli had been concerned when Lisbon mentioned that her daughter was ill, and it warmed her heart just a little bit that he was inquiring about her health. "She's doing better than yesterday."

"_Good, good. I'm sorry to bother you, Agent, but you've got a case." _

Lisbon inwardly groaned.

"_Two girls went missing in Redwood Forest last night." _Lisbon opened her mouth and was about to protest, seeing as the serious crimes unit tended to murders more so than missing persons. _"And it's a suspected murder, Lisbon."_

Her shoulders slumped down and she knew that Minelli had her.

* * *

><p>Jane hated when Lisbon was tense, especially in the morning. He had learned almost immediately that when Lisbon tended to be a bit testy it meant that something was amuck with Rosie (he discovered this when the little girl had a nasty stomach bug and then an ear infection), and it was usually in correlation with the girl's health.<p>

"Just to be clear, except in special circumstances, we don't 'help out'. We take over, and you need to be okay with that."

He cringed when he heard those words escape from Lisbon's mouth. Now he was given the impression that Lisbon had had to forfeit her morning cup of coffee along with the majority of her sleep.

"O-kay, I guess," said Redwood Point's sheriff as he reached for the crime scene tape.

Pausing, Jane looked at the sheriff carefully. "Uh, sorry about that. She's not really a morning person. She'll improve."

Sheriff Nelson eyed him warily and nodded, likely wishing that the petite agent would indeed lighten up as the morning continued on. Jane gave the man one last smile before he ducked underneath the tape and approached the old Volkswagen Rabbit.

"Names of the missing women?" Lisbon asked whilst snapping on a pair of gloves.

"Nicole Gilbert and Cara Palmer." The sheriff approached the car, looking over at it carefully. "Local girls, both twenty-one. They worked together at a hunting store in town."

Jane glanced into the car and saw blood spattered on the dash and flooring. "Last night was Nicole's engagement party," the sheriff continued.

Jane looked back at Lisbon, who glanced from the car to the man giving her the details. "The car was found exactly like this?" she asked.

"Yep, well no. The door was opened just like that, but we popped the trunk."

Lisbon reached down and started to fiddle with the key in the ignition. Nothing happened, as Jane expected, seeing as the key looked as if the car had been on for quite some time. The battery was dead.

"There are different tire tracks here," Cho started as he kneeled down on the ground. "Big SUV, it looks like."

Examining the tire prints, Lisbon cocked her head to the side. To Jane, the tracks appeared newly made. "They're still fresh. Must be from the trucker who called in the car." Lisbon kneeled down alongside Cho. "Make sure forensics gets a mould."

Jane took a step forward and crossed his arms tightly behind his back. He was about to take a step around the tire prints when a bloodhound rushed forward, nose pressed against the dirt.

He looked up at the man handling the dog. "What's going on with your dog?"

The police officer shook his head. "Oh, he's confused somehow. His behaviour…he's sayin' 'hey look, here they are! Give me my slim jim already.'"

The sheriff whirled around on the, who Jane assumed to be a junior officer, and furrowed his brow. "Parker, do you have a better dog close by?"

Jane glanced around. There was nothing wrong with the bloodhound, more so his handler, as he was not listening to the dog's body language that the dog had in fact done his job. The dog had been circling around the car, and Jane would bet all the tea in his cupboard back at headquarters that these men did not look under the car.

"No, sir." The junior officer, Parker, glanced down at his dog. "Come on, Dexter, people are waitin' on us."

"Did you look under the car?" Jane asked.

Everyone turned to look at him and the Nelson's eyebrows rose quite a bit. "Under the car?" he asked.

Jane nodded, "Yeah."

"Of course we looked under the car."

Jane took in a breath and looked over at Parker, who was exchanging a rather dumb look with the sheriff. Nelson's expression fell almost immediately when he realised that his men had, in fact, neglected to check underneath the Rabbit.

Cho and Lisbon exchanged a look before they made their way over to the car and bent down to take a look. The sheriff, catching the mistake, moved back over to the car. Jane moved along with them until he stood beside the car and looked down.

"One or two?"

"One," Cho answered.

"It's Cara Palmer."

Jane straightened up and began to walk away, and he looked around the dense forest, his eyes locking onto Lisbon's. "So…where's Nicole Gilbert?"

An excellent question indeed.

* * *

><p>Nicole Gilbert was found in a small general store, drinking PowerAde and wielding a bloody knife. As soon as the shop owner had identified her, he had not only called an ambulance but the police as well. It had been imperative that she (and Jane) be present at the hospital to speak to her if possible. Of course, the sheriff had gotten a hold of this information as well.<p>

The wait in the hospital was long and tedious.

Gripping her Blackberry tighter in the palm of her hand, Lisbon slipped the little device back into her pocket. She had just ended a call with Missus Norris, who had called to tell her that Rosie was feeling better than she had been the day before. Though it had eased some of Lisbon's previous upset, she still wanted nothing more than to be home with her ill daughter.

Jane sat in a hospital chair, fingers folded together neatly underneath his chin. He had heard the conversation, she knew, but then again he had probably known that Rosie was sick from the start of everything.

Lisbon looked down at the floor. "She's doing better."

Jane nodded. "Good," he said.

"Still a bit weak and whiney, but—."

"She's doing better," he concluded with a small smile.

Lisbon nodded and drew her lips into a thin line. She looked away from her as she saw the doctor in blue scrubs, the one that had been in and out of Nicole Gilbert's room; start to walk in her direction. He was carrying a clipboard under one arm. The sheriff, who was standing far away from Jane and she, moved closer.

"I'm Doctor Stephens, attending for Nicole Gilbert."

Lisbon pulled her jacket away to display her badge. "I'm Agent Teresa Lisbon and this is Patrick Jane." She gestured to the man in question, who had just come to stand beside her.

"Hi," he said.

Sheriff Nelson reached forward and shook his hand, introducing himself.

"She had a nasty blow to her head, a minor concussion," the doctor paused, "and her feet are mildly abraded. She has _a lot_ of minor scratches and bruises, and mild hypothermia. Physically, she'll be fine in a day or so, mentally…it's another story."

Lisbon stopped outside of Nicole Gilbert's hospital room and watched her through the window as an attending nurse checked her over. She felt sorry for the girl.

"When you brought her in, she was in some sort of psychotic state. We've medicated her to take the edge off of that, but she's still in deep shock. She has no memory at all of the events that brought her here," the doctor continued.

The sheriff looked through the window at her also. "That's convenient," he said sharply as Lisbon turned to fix him with a glare. "If I'd just stabbed my best friend to death, I'd want to forget, too. As soon as she's well enough, I'm charging her and taking her to jail."

Lisbon squared her shoulders back when she saw the sheriff look down at her as if he had all the authority in the world.

"Sheriff, you have custody of Nicole, but the CBI's leading this investigation. _I decide_ when to file charges, we don't have all the facts yet."

"Facts? She's covered in blood; she's carrying what looks to be the murder weapon, which the forensic guys say has Cara's blood on it. What more do you want?"

Rolling her eyes, she looked away from the taller man. "Is she well enough to speak to?" Lisbon asked the doctor.

"As long as you're gentle with her," the man concluded.

* * *

><p>He knew that Lisbon always got angry whenever he went on 'a walk' during a case, especially when it had something to do with a person in relation to the murder victim.<p>

This 'walk' brought him to the hospital, the one where Nicole Gilbert was receiving treatment. He was seated by her bedside, waiting for any sign that she would shortly awaken from the slight doze she was in.

When her eyes began to open and when she turned her head towards him, he smiled softly. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Nicole swallowed. "People are saying that I killed Cara, that's why there's a policeman outside. So I don't escape."

"Hmm, did you? Kill Cara?"

She frowned, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. "I don't know. I don't think I did." She looked over at him. "Do you think I did?"

He shook his head, "No. Why would you kill Cara?"

Nicole glanced away and sighed. "Yeah, why would I kill her? But the thing is…I don't know. I don't think I did, but…I don't know."

"HEY!"

At the sound of a voice, Jane watched Nicole's eyes widen.

"HEY, WHERE YOU GOIN'?"

Nicole sat up in her hospital bed, eyes aimed warily through the window to see if she could get a glance at whoever was trying to get into her hospital room.

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF OF ME!"

Nicole gasped and Jane slowly moved to open the door. He poked his head out the door, seeing two police officers shove a young man into a nearby wall with his arms behind his back.

"Just take it down a notch," the younger police officer with glasses said to the man.

"Uh, what's going on?" Jane asked the trio.

"He was trying to sneak in and see her," the elder said.

"I-I was tryin' to see my girl, all right? I was just walkin' through!"

Ah, Nicole's fiancée.

"Nobody's allowed to see her right now," Jane told the men with a slight nod of his head.

With that, Jane reached down and grasped a hold of the doorknob and started to pull it closed. Pausing, he glanced over at Nicole, who sat up in her bed with frightened eyes. Jane watched the men leave before re-entering Nicole's room, shutting the door behind him.

"Wow."

"Are they gone?" she asked.

He nodded, "yes."

"I-I'm not ready to see anyone yet," she stammered, her eyes still wide.

Jane took a step closer to her bed, eyeing glancing over her briefly. "You okay? Do you need me to get the nurse?" He made a gesture to the door in the general direction of the nurse's station.

"No! No, no! Don't leave me alone!"

Nicole's alarm returned at a full force and she made a move as if she were about to sit up straight in her bed again. To appease her, Jane softly said, "I won't."

From his words, Nicole relaxed down onto her bed. Her eyes remained fixed onto the window.

"What was it that scared you just now, Nicole?" he asked as he turned around to face her.

Nicole took in a deep breath. "I-I don't know," she breathed heavily. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's…okay. It's not your fault," he told her in an attempt to calm her breathing as if talking to a child.

He moved to sit in the purple hospital chair beside her, where he knew he would be for the next few hours. He needed to think of a way to get Nicole out of the hospital, and he needed to do so without getting Lisbon involved for he would never hear the end of it.

* * *

><p>Jane was truly awful at remembering to keep his hands off of the evidence, Lisbon mused to herself as she sat beside Rigsby and watched the tavern (and Farnes) where Cara and Nicole had the party two nights ago. The car smelled of fast food, courtesy of the ever-hungry Rigsby. All she had needed to prepare for this stakeout was a hot cup of coffee and a quick call to Missus Norris (without Rigsby being able to hear). The larger man, however, needed a double hamburger with french fries and a soda.<p>

Soon enough, Rigsby was searching through the car in hopes of finding something to nosh on, every compartment opening bringing hope to his eyes. Honestly, the man already had had enough earlier.

"There's nothing left to eat." Lisbon couldn't help but smile at his determination. "You cleaned us out this morning."

Rigsby leaned back in his seat and searched the backseat, a smile growing on his face as he held up a packet of ketchup. Lisbon grimaced at him, plain ketchup was gross, she thought.

Trying to zone out Rigsby's slurping noises, she turned to listen to the crickets chirping outside. Along with the crickets, she heard the rushing sound of traffic that sounded almost like…water. Nicole Gilbert thought she had been near water, she had said that.

"Listen," she leaned forward in her seat and Rigsby stopped sucking on the ketchup packet.

"Cars?"

"The flow of them, it's like a hum. What if Nicole didn't hear water that night? What if it was the flow of traffic?"

Rigsby's eyes opened in alarm. "We should have been searching cabins on this side of town, near the highway."

"We'll split up. I'll get a ranger to come and get me and search the likely spots. You stay here," she said as she reached for her cell phone and dialled for the ranger.

The ranger was to come and get her in fifteen minutes, she told Rigsby. Nodding, the man resumed his slurping and watching of the tavern. Lisbon drank the last of her coffee until the ranger showed up. She knew the temperature was going down up here and she wanted the warm liquid in her belly.

She had seen the man earlier yesterday when she and the team had first arrived on the scene. He was taller than she and wore glasses.

After a reintroduction, she set off with him and started toward the nearby cabins. They searched and as they were moving on to their third, Lisbon's phone went off. She recognised the number as the sheriff's, which meant that he had either found something or…Jane pulled a stupid stunt. God she hoped it wasn't a stupid stunt.

"_Agent Lisbon! Your man just kidnapped Nicole Gilbert from the hospital!"_

"Oh no."

It had to be another stupid stunt.

"_Oh yes! And I'm not happy! In fact, I'm mad as hell! You people are my guest, you can't come in here and abduct my suspects!" _

"Sheriff, I will fix this. Let me get on it right away." She pressed a button on her Blackberry and held her phone tightly in her palm. "Son of a bitch," she said aloud.

"What's up?" the ranger asked.

"Personnel issues," she said as she started dialling another quite familiar number. And held it to her ear. "Pick up your phone, dammit!"

The phone rang for a few seconds before it stopped and she and the ranger reached the door to the cabin. He unlocked the door and stepped in, his flashlight shining into the spacious (and dusty) cabin. Lisbon entered behind him, noting that the cabin did nothing to the colder air.

"It's cold up here at night, huh?" Lisbon pulled her jacket closer and clutched her flashlight tighter.

"Yeah, and boiling during the day. Best of both worlds," the ranger said.

Lisbon felt her sinuses flare up because of the cold and dust mixture. Though, she suspected that her head faintly hurt because of the ranger's pineapple-scented air freshener. She wished that she had thought of this lead much earlier in the day, even though she could take the cold. Something about this place gave her the creeps.

Her cell phone rang again, and she hoped that it wasn't the sheriff saying that Jane had done another stupid stunt. Pulling the device out of her pocket, she glanced at the caller I.D.

**PATRICK JANE**

She pressed the green button and held it to her ear. "Where the hell are you?" she hissed.

"_Nicole remembered everything,"_ he said. _"She can describe the suspect."_

Lisbon shone her flashlight on a door and kicked it open with her foot. It creaked just a little.

"_He's a tall, well-built man with brown hair and glasses. Mid-thirties."_

"That's it?" she glanced over at the glasses-wearing ranger. "That describes half of the men in California!"

"_Yeah, that's it. But at least we know that it wasn't her that killed Cara. And it wasn't Farnes."_

"Nice work, for this you illegally abduct her from the sheriff's custody?"

"_Yeah…I-I was going to tell you about it, but I figured that seeing it's illegal that it would be better to keep you out of it so that you have deniability."_

"Oh, how considerate of you. Listen to me carefully and do exactly as I tell you. Take her back to the hospital right now and sincerely apologise to Sheriff Nelson."

Ending the call, Lisbon turned back to the ranger, her flashlight slipping over him briefly.

"Wow, what was all that about?"

"My bad karma," she said as she walked past him.

They fell in step with each other, tension rising in the cabin. "How's she doing anyway?"

"Who?" she glanced to look at the ranger, who was looking down at her rather oddly.

"The girl, Nicole. How's she holding up?"

Lisbon turned away and fixed her gaze on the bit of broken wooden bits in front of her. "Okay, considering."

"She remember anything yet?"

"We're doing what we can."

"Good."

Lisbon felt like they had soon finished searching the cabin and found nothing. At this point, she was cold, tired, and her sinuses made her feel dizzy. She wanted nothing more than to return home and take a hot bath following some quiet time with her daughter. She couldn't wait for this case to be over

"Is this the last place to check?" she asked as she swore that she had seen that decaying wall earlier.

"No, there's one more place."

Damn, she thought.

"Then let's go."

Her phone started to ring again, and she was sure before she even removed it from her pocket that it was Jane. She rolled her eyes when she realised that she had guessed correctly and pressed the phone to her ear.

"Hey."

"_Pineapple. He smelled like pineapple."_

"Pineapple? What the hell? Go—."

_Pineapple. _

The ranger had a pineapple air freshener around the rear-view mirror of his car. The ranger was also tall, well-built, in his mid-thirties, and had glasses. She was with Cara Palmer's killer.

"—Okay, good. Listen, tell Rigsby that Teresa needs his help. Me? I'm at the Eagle Pine Lodge off of Root Six." She started to feel bile rise up in her throat.

There was a bit of silence before she heard Jane's_ "Okay_._"_

With a sinking sensation in her stomach, Lisbon pulled her phone away from her ear and stuck it in her jacket pocket. Slowly, she turned around to face the ranger, who stood on the other side of the cabin with his hand hovering over his sidearm.

"Kyle, let's stay calm and think this through."

The ranger scoffed, "Think what through?"

She took in a deep breath. "I really don't want to shoot you, but I do have to take you in for the murder of Cara Palmer. What are we going to do about that?" She unclipped her holster.

"It's not like I set out to hurt anyone," the ranger started. "I just wanted to talk to Nicole."

Lisbon furrowed her brow. "Before she ran off and got married?"

The ranger nodded. "I've noticed her around town for a long time. I didn't want her marrying that guy Jason. She's too good for him."

"Please, Kyle, I really and truly do not want to hurt you." She grasped her hand on her sidearm, finger pressed against the trigger.

"Like your chances, do you?"

Taking a deep breath, Lisbon whipped out her sidearm and aimed. At the same time, Kyle did the same and fired. Lisbon felt a bullet whizz past her ear and go through a nearby window, and at the same time she saw one of her bullets hit a dusty light fixture.

She didn't waste her time until she fell backwards behind an old piece of furniture. As soon as her body hit the floor, she knew she'd be nursing a couple of bruises the next day.

"_Uh, Lisbon?"_

When she heard Jane's voice, she shifted her firearm from her right to her left hand and began to dig through her pocket for her phone. She pulled it out as Jane called her again, this time using her first name.

"Shhh!"

"_You all right?"_ he asked her.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Did you call Rigsby?"

"_He's on his way. Listen, I have an idea."_

Lisbon took a few deep breaths and pulled her phone away from her ear. She glanced down at it and set it on the floor. Taking a deep breath again, she pushed the phone forcefully across the floor and switched the gun back to her right hand. .

"_LISBON, BE CAREFUL!" _

Two more shots were fired from the ranger's gun and Lisbon knew he had to be out of bullets. She pushed herself up away from the floor and moved to the door, slipping out of the cabin and hoping to God that Rigsby was on the other side of the door.

"Hi, boss."

She was very relieved to see the familiar face standing before her with his gun in hand. She exchanged a breathless sigh of relief as she stood on the other side of the door, waiting for Kyle to come through and attempt to murder her. He opened the door, ready to dart out in the woods when she aimed her gun to his temple.

"Drop it!"

Kyle seemed to make a move as if he were going to try and move so that he could tap her with the gun when Rigsby cocked his gun. "Really, drop it."

"On your knees," Rigsby told him as Lisbon reached forward and took Kyle's gun out of his hands and lowered her own.

* * *

><p>It was eleven fifty-eight when he knocked on her door the next evening. Ever since they had returned to Sacramento, Jane had gone directly back to his motel room. He did not like the fact that Lisbon had gone to investigate the cabins alone with Kyle, regardless if he was the ranger on call or not. Rigsby should have gone with her, not continued to rummage the car for food as he watched Farnes from afar. He wanted Lisbon to know this.<p>

Lisbon answered the door in her pyjamas, her hair tied back in a low ponytail. The first thing Jane noticed was that even though she had had a child, she still looked lovely. The second was that her left arm was covered in purple marks.

"Jane," she said in surprise, though she did not look excited in the least bit.

He looked at the marks on her arm before his eyes fell upon hers. "It looks like you had a nasty fall."

She glanced down at her arm and then at him again, her fingers still holding on tight to the door. "I was avoiding the bullets."

"You should not have been alone, Teresa."

She flinched at her given name and he continued, "You should have brought Rigsby with you."

"Farnes—."

"Was an innocent creep that didn't need the CBI's attention."

Lisbon drew her lips into a thin line and looked away. "We didn't know that!" she hissed.

His eyes softened just a bit and he stepped forward. "Promise me that you will not do something of this sort again, Teresa."

She stiffened and he hoped that it was because of the slight breeze. "I'm a cop, Jane."

"And a mother. Rosie needs you alive."

Lisbon looked down at this, her grip on the door becoming tighter. Jane knew he had hit a sore spot with her, knowing that that was one of her chief reservations about not really wanting to have children. She didn't want to have a child and to only die a few years later, leaving him or her alone in the world. She knew being a cop and a single mother was not a good combination to boot.

"I know," she said softly.

"I know you do," he said as she looked back at him.

He gave her a soft smile, but he did not let the concern leave his eyes. "Goodnight, Teresa," he said to her as he turned away and moved away from her apartment.

"Goodnight," she said softly and closed the door once he was no longer in her line of sight.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Four

**Don't kill me, please don't kill me! I'm a poor university student and spare time is not my friend! So, now that I've established that I'm a poor university student, I want to thank everyone who has previously read, reviewed, favourited, and followed. You're all the best and I hope that no one abandoned reading this (because you guys have every right because I fail at updating in a timely fashion). **

**Guest 1 - Thank you so much! :)**

**Guest 2 - It's not abandoned, I actually think about it often in the shower. Thank you for reading! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Mentalist, and I surely don't own the last section (dialogue) of what's happening in that bit. **

* * *

><p>Chapter Twenty-Four<p>

**November 10, 2008**

It was late when she found him on the roof. Jane's shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his vest unbuttoned; his hair was a mess as he occasionally ran his fingers through it as he paced.

Lisbon leaned against the doorframe, clearing her throat to pull him from his thoughts. A soft breeze swept by as he slowly turned to face her, and her heart stopped for a couple of seconds. Jane's eyes had a tell-tale swell around them that was an angry red.

Jane immediately looked away and rubbed at his eyes in an attempt to rid his cheeks of tears. It didn't work, and Lisbon found herself leaning farther into the door frame and crossing one foot over the other.

"Jane," she started, "what's going on?"

"Nothing."

He rubbed at his eyes some more and looked over at her nervously. In response, she quirked up her brow and crossed her arms over her chest as she shifted her footing.

"Jane." Her voice was sharp and demanding, but at the same time lacked any trace of anger. Though, she would admit that she did feel a slight annoyance at his inability to admit what was going on inside his head.

Jane rolled his shoulders back and brought his eyes up to Lisbon's. He offered her a soft smile and moved past her through the door frame. "Goodnight, Teresa," he said.

Stiffening, Lisbon glanced over her shoulder as she saw Jane move through the door leading toward the stairs. She turned back until she faced forward and sighed softly before she too moved away from the door frame.

As she made it down the stairs and toward her office to pick up her briefcase, Lisbon assumed that his tears had had something to do with Kristina Frye.

* * *

><p>It was late when Jane arrived in his motel room. Upon entering, he tossed his keys on the nearby table and stripped himself of his jacket and vest and tossed the garments aside to lie on the dresser. It had been a long and annoying case that ended in heartache. The only relief, other than being correct about the killer, was that Kristina Frye would be out of his life forever. He will never have to see her again and he found it quite exhilarating.<p>

He flopped down on the bed, feeling some of the dust shoot up upon his impact. His eyes slipped shut and he remembered Kristina's words and he felt a surge of anger rise deep in his belly_. How dare the charlatan even speak of his family_, he thought. She had no right to even mention them. _She didn't know_—, he was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a sharp noise pierce through the room.

Jane sat up, alert, his eyes moving toward the dresser on the other side of the room. Eager at the prospect for a distraction, Jane moved away from the bed and picked up his jacket. It took him a few moments before he found the correct pocket, and let out a smile of triumph when he held the little device in his palm.

**TERESA LISBON**, said the caller I.D.

Jane fumbled a bit with his phone before he was able to flip it open and hold it up to his ear. "Lisbon," he said into the device.

"_Mister Jane!"_ an excited little voice said at the other end.

At the sound of his young and living daughter's voice, Jane's hard swelled with love. He breathed in a sigh as he felt his body relax.

"Rosie…." He drifted off with a smile on his face as his daughter rambled on about her day, and he knew that all would be well tonight.

* * *

><p>Lisbon watched her young daughter babble away on the phone and a small smile reached her lips. The past case was…weird. The very idea that a woman could talk to the dead seemed too good to be true, so she had agreed with Jane that the woman was a fraud. Though, she'd never tell him outright that she agreed with him about Kristina Frye.<p>

Obviously, before he had left the CBI, Kristina had said something that deeply haunted the man. It was not known to see Jane with another emotion other than the little mischievous glint (and when something in relation to Red John is discovered) he got in his eye before one of his 'grand' schemes. To see him teary eyed hurt, and she was quite surprised she had felt it. Ever since he had returned to Sacramento, Lisbon tried to maintain a stoic and impassive attitude towards him. It raised question, sure, but there were hardly anyone around from his 'first round' at the CBI still working within the building. Therefore, what had previously had happened was not common knowledge.

_Thank God. _

"…and then we go sit on the fairy wheel?"

Blinking, Lisbon's eyes refocused on Rosie as she sat on the edge of her bed, her little feet dangling off the sides. The little girl had a bright smile plastered on her face as she spoke to her father. Lisbon could see Jane making a promise to Rosie; no doubt he was telling her that they could ride atop a Ferris wheel.

Rosie yawned and moved away from the edge of the bed to lie down on her back. The little girl kicked her feet twice and yawned again. "A-and then we can eat candy?"

That was another thing Jane enjoyed doing; the insufferable man loved to load Rosie up on various candies and then send her back to Lisbon. And Lisbon knew the little girl had no objections because that was a rather strict rule in the Lisbon household: no candy unless for a special occasion. Lisbon didn't consider Rosie going out with Jane to be a special occasion, but the consultant seemed to feel that way.

"It's not past my bedtime, Mister Jane!" Rosie giggled into the phone.

Lisbon raised her eyebrows and moved over toward the bed to sit next to her daughter's wiggling form. She smiled and brushed a piece of hair from her daughter's face. "It is past your bedtime, sweetie."

Rosie giggled and shook her head. "No!"

Hearing Jane chuckle on the other end of the line, Lisbon felt like the job was done and that his spirits seemed lifted in comparison to earlier.

"Rosie, it's time for bed. You want to be well-rested for Missus Norris tomorrow, remember?"

Rosie shook her head in defiance and pouted.

"She said she was going to take you to the park."

"_And she may even buy you ice cream. That is, if you go to sleep_._"_

Lisbon rolled her eyes and took the phone from her daughter, who pouted even more until Lisbon put the phone on speaker.

"Goodnight, Mister Jane!" Rosie said.

"_Goodnight, Rosie." _There was a slight hesitance until he continued on. _"Goodnight, Lisbon. Sleep tight, both of you."_

"'Night, Jane." Lisbon pressed the little red button and set her phone on the nearby end table. She turned to her daughter and smiled. "Now, where were we?"

The little girl smiled and shrugged against her pillows.

"_You _were going to bed, like all little girls do."

Rosie nodded and shuffled further up the bed so Lisbon could pull the blankets back. The girl moved back down until she was once again on her back and comfortably against the pillows. Lisbon pulled the blankets up to Rosie's chin and smoothed her hair down once more. She bent over, pressed a kiss to her temple and cheek, before moving away.

"Goodnight, sweetie."

"Goodnight, Mommy."

* * *

><p><strong>November 25, 2008<strong>

Lisbon walked out of an observation room with her mind swimming in annoyance with all things concerning Patrick Jane. He was giving orders, yet again, to her team. It was not his right to tell suspects that they can leave the interrogation room.

"Two notes here, we already have plenty on him. One, armed assault on Cho and Van Pelt, and two, a barn full of fire accelerant."

She fell into pace beside him. Jane acknowledged her with a small tip of his head.

"Well, the armed assault was in self-defence and the accelerant was a plant." He paused and looked at her. "Only two?"

Lisbon looked down a bit. "Actually, no. Where do you get off giving orders in the first place? I say who goes and who stays, not you."

They slowed their pace as they came to stand in front of her office door. "Well, that's uh, fiery." She shot him a glare over his shoulder.

_Damn the man!_

"You should try it with a more forceful hand gesture, like, _I _say who goes and who stays, not _you_." He practised it before her, demonstrating how she ought to have said it. Her annoyance was growing and expanding into rage and she clenched her jaw.

"I'm serious."

"So am I. If he's in here, how's the killer going to get to him?"

"He could be the killer, and even if he's not, we don't want the killer to get him."

Jane straightened. "Yes, we do. He's our bait, our tethered goat."

She internally rolled her eyebrows at the very thought of using a suspect as live bait. "And too bad if the bait gets killed?"

Jane took a small step back. "Well, yes. That's why you use goats, instead of babies and virgins in that matter." He offered her a small smile and Lisbon rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Well, he's not a goat." She turned away from Jane and headed into her office with a dull sense of finality. She said it very weakly, she noted, therefore Jane would try to worm his way into this.

Jane poked his head in the door. "You're right, he's not actually a goat. He's goatish and deserves to suffer a little."

Lisbon sat down at her desk and rolled up forward a bit until comfortably seated. "Nobody deserves murder."

Pushing away from the door, Jane entered the office and stood before Lisbon's desk. "He helped burn Dave Martin alive out of greed."

It bothered her that Jane said it as if his crimes justified what ought to happen to him. "Jane, we're officers of the law."

He smirked a little. "You are, I don't care about the law. I care about justice. And justice says Machato deserves to suffer."

He said it so simply that it unhinged (and angered her further) a little. "That's not justice, that's vengeance."

"What's the difference?"

She took a deep breath and Cho moved into the office. "What do you want us to do with Machato, boss?"

"Let him go," she said.

Cho raised his eyebrows. "Really? Like, let him go, let him go?"

She nodded. "Really, like that."

Watching Cho's eyes shift from her to Jane, Lisbon pressed her elbows further into her desktop. "Okay," Cho said as he left the office.

Jane smiled. "Trying some reverse psychology?"

"You talk tough, maybe it's time you learned that there's consequences. If Machato gets hurt, it's on you."

He took a step back. "Fine with me."

She nodded her head and turned away as he did. When her hand closed around her computer mouse, she sensed his eyes on her and heard him sigh as he moved back into the room.

"We never discussed this." She turned away from her computer and back towards him. "Because I thought it went without saying, but when I catch Red John, I'm going to cut him open and watch him die slowly. Like he did with my wife and child."

Lisbon swallowed. In all her time of knowing Patrick Jane, she had never heard him talk as he did now. There were talks of his desire to capture the evasive Red John, but never what he wanted to do once the man was in custody.

He continued, "Now if you have a problem with that, we should talk."

"Then let's talk, because when _we_ catch Red John, we're going to take him into custody and he's going to be tried in a court of law."

"Not if I'm still breathing," he said darkly, his expression sending a violent shiver down her spine. She did her best to mask it, but she was certain that he had noticed.

She took a deep breath. "If you try and do violence to him, I will try and stop you. If you succeed in doing violence to him, I will arrest you." Lisbon was proud that her voice did not waver.

"I understand," he nodded, his tone too light for her liking.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p><strong>It's short, and I apologise for that. The next chapter should have some more nice things happening as it's going to be very Red John-orientated. :)<strong>


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